


Cage of Thorns

by Spaceelf



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Aphrodisiacs, Claude and Byleth are best friends, Confessional Sex, Cunnilingus, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hate Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Love/Hate, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peeping, Pining, Porn With Plot, Rivals to Lovers, Sex In A Cave, Sexual Repression, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, Wyverns, blowjob, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 60,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25597276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spaceelf/pseuds/Spaceelf
Summary: Returning to Garreg Mach Monastery after vanishing for five years, Byleth finds herself at odds with Seteth... when they should be cooperating to take down the Adrestian Empire.  Beyond the challenges of war, they face each other.  But will they survive the advancing enemy?They end up fucking.Golden Deer post timeskip canon divergence.Seteth is a holy man and he refuses to sin.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Seteth
Comments: 131
Kudos: 125





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> I'm BACK  
> okay so I've been sick (not covid) and now I'm just finally getting back to writing, sorry Ashen Werewolves will have to wait but I'm in desperate need of a new Setleth fix.
> 
> This first chapter will be relatively clean, we'll get dirtier as we progress. No idea how long this will be. I'm just glad to be back. If you could be so kind to comment your reactions, concerns, anticipations... They give me life! I'm going to go write the next (few) chapter(s?) now.

When she fell, he regretted every harsh word, every glare. Only because they all loved her dearly.

The professor had been gone for five years, yet her absence fell over Garreg Mach like a shadow as war swelled. The monastery halls grew abandoned, the walls began to crumble. Seteth locked himself and Flayn away in the most hidden corridors of the monastery, and managed to survive those five years until the millennial anniversary.

Flayn was fast asleep when Seteth stirred. The air shifted. Hours before dawn, he sighed and dressed, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He lumbered across the room and picked up his poleaxe, as he always did before leaving the safety of their hidden abode.

He emerged from the monastery to the surrounding village, where bandits roamed. He expected them. Being a holy man, they surprisingly didn’t bother him over the years, assuming a man of the church to have nothing of value. Yet, he had squirreled away the treasures and artifacts of Garreg Mach to hidden chambers to protect them from looting. Any who threatened him… well they weren’t heard from again.

He watched as something stirred the bandits, causing a commotion among them. They plagued the monastery, and their numbers would have easily overwhelmed him should he had decided to clean them out. No one cared. He still held a last shred of hope that Rhea was out there, somewhere, somehow alive. He just needed to wait for something, anything. A sign.

Then he saw it, a flicker of movement over the walls. A wyvern’s wing. He worried his mount had somehow escaped his stable, or was stolen. His heart sank as he slinked through the shadows behind the bandits to see…

Claude, atop his wyvern, felling enemies left and right.

_ What is he doing here? _

Behind him, a voice bellowed a war cry. The wall before him exploded, knocking three bandits back. A glint of a blade flashed through the smoke as the dust settled.

His heart stopped, his face paled.

_ Impossible. _

Her.

The loathsome professor returned to the monastery. To his confusion, elation filled his chest at the sight.

He ran to wake Flayn and notify the Knights. There would be work to do.

\---

The Golden Deer made a promise. Byleth would not forget that promise. Upon waking after five years, she returned to the monastery to find a reunion awaiting her. The Knights of Seiros caught wind and joined their cause: fighting the Adrestian Empire to win the war.

It felt like home again. Surrounded by her pupils--no--her friends. Though the monastery was reduced to rubble, they worked to clean and restore it so it was a functional base of operations. The greenhouse bloomed again, weekly seminars resumed, and even Seteth returned to critique her every move and watch over the returning inhabitants.

The Knights wanted to join the war effort to find Lady Rhea. A rumor circulated that she was alive. The Golden Deer could take all the help they could get, so they joined forces. It was practical.

Yet Byleth and Seteth continued to butt heads in the war room. Disagreements on supply routes, battle plans, even more frivolous disputes were at every turn. Seteth was stubborn. Harsh. Unreasonable. Their rivalry grew.

Byleth tolerated none of it, reciprocating his cold demeanor. In a way, it was comforting, just like old times. But as the war dragged on, both grew weary.

“Teach, relax. He’s just a stubborn old man. He’s only taking the cautious route because he’s concerned about Flayn.” Claude reassured Byleth for the hundredth time.

Byleth rubbed her temples, “He’s an ass. We’re wasting time sitting around like this.”

Claude was hesitant for a moment. “Why don’t you try to make amends? Get to know him better?”  
She scoffed, “And just how do you think I should do that?”

“I know you wanted to learn how to fly a Wyvern and all, but maybe asking him for a flying lesson might be a good start?” Claude shrugged. “Besides, my wyvern has been temperamental lately.”

\---

Byleth loomed in the doorway of Seteth’s office, watching him pour over his desk, scribbling away at whatever he was doing. He was so engrossed in his work, he hadn’t noticed her.

She exhaled, “Seteth.”

He bolted upright, startled. “Professor! I did not see you there. Is there something you need?” He sat back, rolling his shoulders, expectant.

“I need a flying lesson.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Teach me to fly a wyvern.” She said, squeezing out a “please” through gritted teeth.

Seteth smirked, “Really now? Could you not ask anyone else?”

Byleth clenched her fists, “Claude’s mount is temperamental at the moment. I figure you would be the next best person to ask.”

Seteth sat back in his chair, mulling over the prospect.  _ This could be an opportunity to see what really makes her tick. _ _ Maybe convince her to listen to reason on strategy. _

“It seems like a waste of time.” He gave a smug grin, using her own words from a recent meeting against her.

Byleth replied with an indignant huff.

“What will you do for  _ me _ ?” Seteth cocked an eyebrow.

“I suppose you don’t care if your allies have an extra advantage in war, do you?” She snarled.  
“You doubt your own capabilities?”

“No! Don’t twist my words!” She stamped her foot. “Perhaps I can be more lenient with your plans about cutting off Imperial supply trains in Faerghus.”

“And?”

“And nothing you stubborn oaf!”

“You forget the Knight’s hospitality for the Alliance here.”

“Then what would you suggest?”

Seteth frowned. There were thousands of chores around the monastery that needed to be done, and with the war he had trouble keeping up with his own work. He drew a finger along the edge of his desk, examining the dust he picked up.

“Dust the offices.”

Byleth groaned.

“And clear the rubble from the training grounds.” She opened her mouth to object but he stopped her with a curt, “you don’t want any more duties, do you?”

Byleth cleared her throat, adjust her tone, “I just wanted to ask when we’ll start?”

“Tomorrow morning first thing.” He sighed, resuming his work. “But you can begin dusting now. You can do my office last.”

Byleth muttered a swear as she stormed out of the room to begin her work.

Seteth found his smirk remaining as he worked away writing correspondence on behalf of the knights. Hours passed before Byleth’s presence drew his attention away from his work once more.

“Back so soon?” He asked.

“It’s almost dark, Seteth. You haven’t moved.” Byleth strode across the room, lighting a handful of candles around his desk.

“Ah, I didn’t realize.” He muttered as he watched her. She moved gracefully through the room as she wiped down surfaces and shelves around him. He didn’t realize he was staring until she stood back and sighed, stretching.

“All done. Have you not moved from your desk all day?” She asked, snapping him out of his trance.

“I suppose I should take a break.” He sighed.  
“A break? It’s late. You can call it quits for the night.” She rested her hands on her hips. “Do you always work like this?”

“Well, yes.” Seteth glowered. “Otherwise nothing would get done.”

She sighed. “Our flying lessons will break up this monotony. You should take a break every now and then.”

“Then perhaps you can remind me when you’re doing your cleaning.” He stood up and stretched, glaring at her down his nose.

“Another responsibility?” Byleth groaned.

“Then perhaps you don’t have to clean up the arena.”

“Deal.”

\---

Byleth never noticed how hard Seteth worked, and how much work was put into keeping up the monastery. Perhaps that was why he always had such a stern disposition.

He was still an ass about it. Yet, she looked forward to tomorrow’s lesson.

\---

Seteth took a moment for himself to relax in the sauna before it closed for the evening. Alone with his thoughts, he wondered why he was so captivated with watching Byleth work. Why did she steal his attention? Was it because of his grueling day slaving over his quill? He furrowed his brow, glancing down to see a rising tent in his trousers. He cursed himself. He was a holy man. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift elsewhere, willing his erection down.


	2. Lesson One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth finds herself between a rock and a hard place during her first flying lesson. Except the rock is a wyvern and the hard place is Seteth's dick.  
> Seteth represses his urges, praise Sothis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seteth is frustrated. Some semi-dirty things in this chapter. Yeehaw!

  
  


Byleth was roused by a rapping on her door. She stumbled out of bed, lurching across her room to crack open the door.

Seteth stood in the misty dark, his arms folded behind his back, “I said first thing in the morning.” He gave her that same glare down his nose.

Byleth rubbed her eyes and groaned, “It’s not even dawn.”

“Do you want to learn to fly or not?”

“Give me a minute.” She muttered. Under her breath she slipped out a swear.

Seteth cleared his throat, expectant. She slammed the door in his face and hurried to get ready.

Emerging moments later from her room, she followed him to the stables, where he showed her how to saddle his wyvern, named Pebbles.

“Pebbles?” Byleth chuckled.

“Flayn named her.”

“That’s sweet.” She chimed. Seteth was unsure if she was being sarcastic.

“Follow my example.” Seteth mounted his scaly steed with ease, then offered his hand.

Byleth ignored his offer and scrambled at the side of the saddle, to no avail.

“It takes practice. For now, you may need some help.” Seteth sighed, extending his hand again. She exhaled, taking his hand. She was taken off guard by Seteth’s immense strength pulling her up into the saddle in front of him. Settling into the saddle, Seteth reached past her to pick up the reins. “Wyverns are reptiles, and different than horses. Both animals are intelligent in their own ways. Pebbles is not likely to be spooked like a horse is, but can revert to instinct if not given guidance. She’ll fly off to hunt if you aren’t firm with her. Most wyverns are like this. For now, just get used to riding. The muscles shift differently than a horse, so flying feels a lot less stable.”

He pulled the reins and Pebbles began to move, walking out of the stables. “This isn’t so bad.” Byleth laughed. He urged the reins and patted the wyvern’s neck, pushing her into a trot. The bumpier ride bounced Byleth back into Seteth, her head knocking against his chin. She grunted and Seteth cried out in pain, rubbing his chin.

Her scent filled his nostrils, smelling of summer nights and jasmine tea. Heavenly.

“I’m sorry.” Byleth rubbed the back of her head and hunched forward, stiffening.

“It’s fine.” He replied, “But you must relax.”

She slumped her shoulders.

“We’re going to take off.” Seteth directed Pebbles to take flight, explaining to Byleth what he was doing. The wyvern broke into a gallop, flapping its wings before hurling them into the air and over the monastery walls.

Byleth tensed, “W-what do I hold on to?” She panicked.

“It’s okay--”

Byleth threw herself forward, hugging the base of the wyvern’s neck. Unfortunately for Seteth, that meant her ass was now pressed against his crotch, and the shifting of Pebbles in flight was moving him forward into her… repeatedly.

He grunted as the grinding sensation worked him up, his cock swelling against her plush rear. He muttered a swear, hoping his body’s sin would subside and she would not notice.

“Byleth, please try to sit up.” He pleaded.

“I will… just let me adjust. Can you tell me what you’re doing in the meantime?” Seteth leaned to the side to see that her eyes were clenched shut, her head buried in her shoulder.

“Byleth, please--”

“I’ll get there, just keep explaining things!” She squeaked.

Seteth groaned, the friction against her ass pure torture. His voice shook as he explained turning the reins and how they were indeed secure and strapped onto Pebbles safely. Byleth would not relent from her position of hugging Pebbles’ neck. Pebbles thankfully didn’t mind. In fact, she seemed to enjoy the attention. Seteth, on the other hand, minded very much.

“So let’s review. How do you turn?” Seteth’s voice cracked, using every fiber in his being to hold back release.

“Pull the reins opposite and lean.” Byleth whined.

“Correct.”

“To lunge?”

“Lean forward and soft spur.”

Seteth’s eyes rolled back in his head as she mimicked the action, pressing into him harder. He moaned, “We’re going to land.”  
“Great, great!” Byleth sighed.  
“Afterward, I’m going to make some rounds so Pebbles gets some exercise.” He added, finding a proper excused to where he could let his _sin_ die down. He explained the landing process, and upon the landing Seteth praised the goddess for his immaculate restraint. Byleth rolled off the saddle onto the ground with a flop, ignoring his dismounting advice.  
She scrambled to her feet before turning to him, straightening herself. “So again tomorrow, right?”

Seteth answered with a frown before urging Pebbles back into the sky, speeding away from the monastery as quickly as he could.

His cock throbbed against the seam of his pants, and now alone in the sky, he unleashed a terrible groan and urged his steed to land in an isolated clearing. He slid off the saddle, hobbling across the clearing, every step agony. Falling to his knees, Seteth unfastened his trousers to let his cock free, watching it dribble cum onto the soft grass.

“Curse you.  _ Damn  _ you.” He beat his fist into the ground, letting his cock bob free in the cool morning air. His swollen balls ached. “I am a holy man, I will not give in to such things!” Truthfully, there was nothing in the church doctrine that spoke adamantly against masturbation, but it was of his own moral code, after years of swearing he would never take another lover, or feel such feelings again, he found his body betraying him.

He rested on all fours, looking down between his arms at his swollen member, dripping, begging him. His lip curled, his fingers dug into the grass as he waited, focusing, praying.

In time, it subsided and he was able to get to his feet and re-fasten his trousers, straightening himself with a sigh.

“Tell no one of this.” He growled when he turned to face his steed, who looked up at him and cocked her head.

She snorted, shaking her head, her bridle jingling against her scales. A good enough reply as any.

\---

Flying was exhilarating, but Byleth was still terrified. Seteth’s look of disappointment after their lesson was searing, and she vowed to do better. If he was willing to take her on another lesson.

Determined to make it up to him, she made her way to the arena to spend the rest of the morning clearing rubble. Surely that would convince him otherwise. She’d also bring him tea that afternoon and apologize while she went about dusting. There was no way he’d say no to her after such good deeds!


	3. Dive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth works hard to make Seteth happy. He decides to have the next lesson sooner than expected. Flying goes smoothly until Byleth takes the reins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angry boner time! This is part of the build up... and I'm gonna keep writing and try to post even more tonight.
> 
> Spaceelf, why do you always write fics like this and end up posting most, if not all of the entire thing in one go?  
> BECAUSE I'M CRAZY THAT'S WHY
> 
> also this hate love stuff is my biggest kink don't hate me ;A;
> 
> Please leave a comment telling me what your favorite Setleth dynamic is (so I can diversify) and also let me know your thoughts on the angy babies

“I do not wish for our lessons to continue.” Seteth focused on the papers before him, not even attempting to meet Byleth’s gaze.

“But I started cleaning the arena! I brought you tea!” Her hands shook, causing the tea tray she was holding to rattle.

“You couldn’t even sit up.” Just thinking about it made blood pump to his cock. His face flushed. “No, I don’t think you’re suited for such things.”

“Please, Seteth. I’ll do anything!” She set the tray on his desk, knocking over his inkwell. He frowned as she hurried to wipe up the ink with a dirty dust rag, smearing it over his desk and making an even bigger mess. A slew of curses fell from her mouth.

_ How could she be so clumsy and yet have such finesse on the battlefield? _

“Language, professor.”

“Byleth.” She corrected.

“Language, Byleth.”

Hearing her name on his lips made something inside her stir. She was unsure if it was good or bad.

“Please Seteth, I want to give it another shot.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “After your colorful vocabulary today, perhaps you should spend more time in church. Even if you don’t follow the ways, it might teach you the discipline you need to face a wyvern and the challenges of flying.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that maybe you could learn a thing or two about flying by looking beyond the action itself. Learn patience, discipline, self-control… fine motor skills.” He gestured to the mess she was failing to clean up. “Maybe you should attend weekly mass, choir practice, try going to the confessional. Learning these things may help you learn the basics of flying.”

“I think I get what you’re saying.”

“Good. Then if I see you doing these things, then maybe we can revisit the lessons in a week.”

“A  _ week _ ?”

“Patience, Byleth.” Seteth tutted.

Byleth’s brows knitted together as she took a deep breath, steadying herself. She finished cleaning up the mess, leaving behind the tray of tea for Seteth to enjoy alone.

\---

“He’s just wasting time, like he always does!” Byleth paced across the training grounds, cursing. “This is stupid!”

“The church is more reluctant to follow our lead, I urge you to consider trying this out. It could be useful for us.” Claude loosed another arrow into the target he was practicing on. Bullseye, as always.

“Why can’t you do something about it?”

“I’m doing what I can, teach.” He replied. “You’re the bridge between us and the church, you’re the one who could really make these changes. If you’re worried about time, then you’d better play his game how he wants.”

“It’s hardly a game.”

“But it’s still a game, regardless of how boring it is. Everyone has their own game, but sometimes you have to play by their rules. Who knows, you may actually learn a thing or two from it?” Claude shrugged, loosing another arrow.

“Fine.” Byleth grumbled, sweeping a newly cleared area of the arena.

She washed, cleaning herself up as best she could. That evening, she joined choir practice. After practice dispersed, she wandered over to the confessional. She entered the booth, heaving a sigh.

“I don’t even know how these things work.” She muttered.

A voice answered her. It was muffled and warped, a doing of the church to maintain anonymity between the confessor and the confessee.

\---

“Take your time.” Seteth replied to the muffled voice. He couldn’t tell who was on the other side, but he was patient as ever during confessional duty.

The voice on the other side huffed. “I’ve never been one for religion, so forgive me.”

“Always.” He answered. “We are here to help guide you, even if this is not your path.”

“War has me stressed. Lately I find myself trying to grow, but I feel hindered by… someone. Like he’s wasting time.”

The words were so familiar. Seteth’s heartbeat quickened. “Perhaps it is a test. The goddess tests us in many ways.”

“I suppose. I just want people to have confidence in me. I want this person to just give me a chance!”

Seteth frowned, “In what way?”

“In order to learn a skill, they are having me do… well, this. I can’t even believe I’m going through with it. It seems fruitless.” A bang against the wall between them startled him. “Sorry. I just lost my temper.”

“I-it’s okay, child. Perhaps you can try to put yourself in their shoes, see things from their perspective?”

“It seems impossible, he’s such an arrogant, stubborn, son of a--”

“Language!”

“Ah, sorry.”

“Arrogance, stubbornness… these things can be forgiven. But are you sure this person is the only one who is arrogant and stubborn?” Seteth was wounded by the words, since he felt that way about the person he suspected was on the other side of the confessional.

A moment of silence. “I guess I was, too.”

“Do you know how you plan to remedy this?”

“I… I think I do.” A sigh. “Thanks.”

“Go in peace.” He whispered, then listened as the door to the confessional opened and shut. He leaned back, cracking the door of his side to see Byleth walk away, hanging her head. He pursed his lips, mulling over the conversation.

\---

Byleth tried her best over the following week, working to attend mass and follow the church, gaining bits of perspective along the way. Something about Seteth’s reactions to her first lesson and then spilling ink really got to her. She wanted to impress him and change his view of her. Diligent about her duties, she came to clean and check on him every day, and was more careful about bringing him tea.

Still, they bickered. It was expected between them, though the issues were minor.

“Why don’t you light candles before it gets dark like this? How can you even see?” Byleth sighed, illuminating the room around him.

“I’d rather save the wax, it’s one less expense.” Seteth muttered.

“It hardly costs anything.”  
“I try to make the candles myself, and it costs me time. Time better spent managing monastery affairs, training… teaching you how to fly.” He replied.

“Fine, I get it. Whatever.” She left him grumbling as she headed to the market, hoping to buy him a box of candles to appease him further. Anything to change his mind.  _ Pompous jerk. _

He seeped into her mind like floodwaters, occupying her thoughts and catching her off guard when she was doing the most random and irrelevant tasks. The source of her aggravation, she continued to endure this trial for the sake of her own growth.

\---

Seteth walked into his office the following morning to find a gift on his desk. He glanced around in the hallway, seeing no one around. Of course no one would be up this early, whoever brought this gift must have been by late last night, after he left.

He peeled away the bright green paper and opened the box to discover a variety of candles, including some that were half-used. Atop the candles was a small card that read:

_ Don’t worry so much. -Byleth _

He smiled, his heart fluttering at the consideration that he never would have expected from her.  _ Stop. Don’t get excited. _

He called an owl and wrote a reply to her:

_ Thank you for the candles. Let’s fly later today. _

\---

Byleth loomed in the doorway, shifting on her feet. “I’m ready to try again!” She smiled, eager.

Seteth met her gaze, mirroring her radiant smile. “Wonderful, let’s go.”

On the way down to the stables, he quizzed her about flying and landing. She managed to remember everything correctly, and Seteth hoped she could prove it to him.

“Let’s try again.” He offered his hand to help pull her into the saddle. She situated herself, exhaling. He inhaled as he took the reins around her, smelling her sweet scent. His cock stirred, and he quickly straightened himself, urging Pebbles to take flight.

Taking off found Byleth clutching Pebbles’ neck again, her ass pressed against Seteth once more. He prayed to Sothis for strength while at the same time begging Byleth to sit up.

“Please Byleth, you can’t do this again.”

“Sorry, it’s an instinct.” She whimpered. He rolled his eyes, cursing the swelling instinct in his trousers.

“Just try to sit up, slowly. I’ll even hand you the reins.” He said, leaning against her and prying one of her hands from Pebbles’ neck. He pressed the reins into her hand.

\---

She felt him press the reins into her hand. His warmth covered her back as he leaned against her. There was something hard pressing against her ass. Blood rushed to her cheeks as the warmth of his breath hit her ear.

“You have the reins, just try to sit up.” His voice was calm. His hands patted her forearms before sliding up to her shoulders and pulling her back.

She took a deep breath, ignoring the feel of him behind her, praying what she felt wasn’t what she thought it was…

Slowly, she straightened her posture, rising from the wyvern’s neck and opening her eyes.

Fodlan stretched beneath her like an endless canvas of lush greens. Her breath hitched, her eyes watered from the wind and the sheer beauty of  _ flight. _

“Ah ha! Ha! I’m doing it!” She shouted. “I’m flying!” She threw her arms in the air, pulling the reins up with her, forcing Pebbles to take the signal as a dive. Her shouts morphed into a scream as Seteth’s arms raced to her hips and she doubled forward, clutching the wyvern’s neck once again.

“Byleth, please! Calm yourself!” Seteth yelled, reaching with one hand to snatch the reins from her, regaining control. He leaned back, pressing harder into her as he pulled the reins to steer Pebbles up and stabilize the flight.

_ That’s definitely his-- _

Byleth’s face was bright red.

Pebbles whined, the dive with the weight of two riders causing her strain.

“We’re landing to let her rest, you can’t just dive like that.” Seteth growled, guiding Pebbles down to a familiar looking grassy clearing.

Seteth hopped off, disregarding his throbbing erection to check on his steed. He prayed that Byleth wouldn’t notice, and that it would subside quickly this time.

“What a thrill!” Byleth laughed, sliding out of the saddle.

“A thrill? You’ve stressed out Pebbles!” Seteth snapped. “You can’t just jerk around the reins like that!”

“You seemed to like it enough,” Byleth chided, making it obvious she was staring at the very large tent in his pants.

“I beg your pardon!” Seteth gasped, turning away and hunching over. “That is  _ not  _ what you think it is!”

“Oh and what is it? A dagger?” Byleth scoffed. “You must  _ really  _ like flying, huh?”

“How unbelievably crass! I could never!” Seteth huffed. “It was just the circumstances!”  
“Circumstances? You mean me?” She cocked an eyebrow, a smug grin reaching toward her ears.

“Absolutely not.” Seteth snarled, glaring at her over his shoulder. “If you must know, you leaning against Pebbles’ neck created some very unnecessary friction. I am a holy man, I would never do such--”

“Oh sure, blame it on me.” Byleth rolled her eyes. “Were you getting your rocks off last time, too?”

“I was not! The absolute audacity, you should be ashamed of yourself!”

“Hmph, whatever. You just have no decency.”  
“I absolutely do have decency, you’re just blowing it out of proportion!”

“Out of proportion?” She chuckled to herself. “You sure you’re not part wyvern?”

“Really Byleth?” Seteth huffed. “You are the  _ last  _ person I’d ever--just thinking about it is an abomination!”

“Whatever, let’s just get back to the monastery and I’ll  _ forgive your sins _ .” She rolled her eyes, moving to mount Pebbles. The wyvern swung her neck around and snapped at her, hissing.

“You will do no such thing.” Seteth growled. “Your idiocy strained Pebbles. There is no way I’m going to teach you again. Especially after this outburst.”

Byleth pouted. “So how do you propose we get back to the monastery?”

“Pebbles will fly on her own.” He sighed, “Unfortunately we’re a long way from Garreg Mach.”  
Byleth narrowed her eyes, “How far?”

“Western Gaspard territory, North of the Western Church.”

“ _ What _ ?” Byleth hissed. “You dragged us all the way out to enemy territory?”

“Excuse me, but it was  _ you  _ who caused Pebbles to speed up and then dive, I couldn’t keep track of where we were in all of that chaos!” Seteth countered. “This is  _ your  _ fault!”

“My fault? Maybe if you hadn’t been so pushy to give me the reins this wouldn’t have happened!”  
“Pushy?” Seteth scoffed, turning around. The raging beast in his trousers calmed. “Pushy? You’re the pushy one! Insisting on this whole flying lesson thing in the first place!”

Pebbles grew agitated by the yelling and snapped at both Seteth and Byleth before screeching and taking back to the sky.

Byleth cursed. “There goes our ride.”

“She’ll make it back to the monastery fine.”  
“And what about us? We have to walk all that way, through enemy territory! We don’t even have weapons!”

Seteth groaned. “Fine, we should just start moving back. The Knights will send out a search party once they notice we’ve gone missing. They’ll find us soon enough. In the meantime, let’s get going.”

“Way ahead of you,” Byleth had already calculated which direction was east and began walking.


	4. Firelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Seteth find themselves stranded. As nature turns against them, they must find a way to survive or face certain peril.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEX CAVE SEX CAVE
> 
> one of my favorite awful fanfic tropes and I'm finally getting to write this shit whooooooooo
> 
> They gonna fuck yeehaw
> 
> please don't hate me but leave comments about how I'm a terrible person falling into this trope trap  
> or just about your favorite Setleth things :P

Even the southernmost reaches of Faerghus were cold well into the Spring. Gaspard was no exception, and as they trudged through the woods, a crisp gale cut through them, pulling shivers from their bones. Remnants of rime frost coated the north sides of trees, and the occasional patch of hoarfrost crunched beneath their feet as they pushed through the woods, their bickering died hours ago.

“It will snow soon.” Seteth looked up to the sky, watching clouds roll in. He smelled ice on the air. “Probably the last storm of the season.”

Byleth glared at him over her shoulder, “How do you know?”

“Experience.”

She rolled her eyes and continued to trudge on, moving to work up her body heat in order to keep warm. She stopped when she noticed the cloud of her breath growing thicker and more noticeable. They were climbing uphill through the woods, the terrain around them rocky.

“It’s almost dark. We should find shelter soon.”  
Byleth growled, “Then go find some.”  
“You don’t want to make camp? I’ve already seen a few flurries.” Seteth warned.

“Fine, I’ll look around here for dry wood and kindling. Look up this next hill and see if you find anything. Don’t stray far. Whistle check to find me.”  
Seteth whistled. “Like this?”  
Byleth replied with two whistles. “Yep. That way if there are enemies nearby, we won’t give ourselves away with shouting.”  
“A mercenary tactic.” Seteth observed. She nodded. He wandered up the rocky hillside while Byleth gathered an armful of dry wood.

A distant whistle sounded after some time. He had gone further than she anticipated. She whistled back twice. Flurries were falling more steadily through the evergreen branches of the forest, the pale sky darkening. She shivered, cursing herself.

Seteth appeared over the hilltop near a cluster of boulders. She quickened her pace, following him silently through the woods, around the rocky landscape to a grand rockface along the steep mountainside. In the rockface was a narrow opening where Seteth slipped into. She followed, barely managing to fit her armful of wood and kindling through. The crevice was narrow at the entrance, opening to a cosy hollow in the rock, hollowed out by years of erosion. It was dark, and the stone around them offered no warmth like a burrow in the earth would.

“Tch.” She curled her lip.

“Think you can do better?”

“Well I assumed we’d come across a road by now.”  
“And give ourselves away? You still have the reputation, and with the Western church like it is, my robes would be recognized and I’d most likely be suspect.” Seteth scolded.

Byleth huffed, dropping the bundle of wood at his feet. “I’ll go get more wood.”  
“Don’t go far, and don’t go out after this.”  
“What do you care?” She growled.

“Like it or not, we are allies, and our cooperation is beneficial. Here and at the monastery.” Seteth crossed his arms.

Byleth left him in silence, gathering what she could of dry wood along the mountainside. When she returned, the cave was still dark. Seteth struggled with a pair of sticks to make a friction fire in the kindling.

“You don’t have flint on you?”

“Of course not.” Seteth snapped.

She groaned, drawing the dagger in its sheath from her belt. The lining of the sheath was flint, and the blade itself was the steel she needed. A gift from her father, ever the prepared mercenary. A few strikes of her blade upon the sheath produced sparks that grew to embers upon the kindling. With a gentle breath, the fire began to grow. Seteth reached for a log.  
“Not yet. We don’t have much wood, and we don’t know how long the storm is. We need to save our resources and keep the fire small.”

“Jeralt taught you well.” Seteth nodded, returning the log to the pile.

“He did.”

“Can you set traps for food?”  
“Not right now. Too cold and I don’t have time. It’s dark.” Byleth glanced over her shoulder as the crack in the rock disappeared into blackness. “I have jerky, but we’ll save it for when we wake up, if you’re not starving.” She pulled a pouch from the pocket of her coat, tossing it next to the pile.

“I can wait.”  
“Good.”

“Jeralt taught you that, too?”  
“He had some useful habits as a mercenary. Growing up with it I guess I don’t even think about it. Though I wish I brought my sword.”

“Hm.”

\---

Seteth watched her, her eyes mirroring the flickering flames of the tiny fire between them. They sat in silence, listening to the wind howl through the cave. The draft stirred the fire, but the flame kept steady as Byleth sat over it, her back to the cave entrance.

She shivered, and Seteth moved closer to the fire, sharing the sentiment. A pale line of snow appeared along the cave entrance, a drift growing as the storm whirled around the mountain.

Watching the flames in her eyes, Seteth soon fell asleep.

\---

Byleth realized after hours of focusing on the flames, that Seteth’s breathing was steady. He curled next to the fire, his body curving around to get as much warmth as he could. Her back was numb, her legs stiff. She glanced behind her, eyeing the now sizable snowdrift in the entrance. She crawled over to it, the draft cutting through her like a blade.

Shaking, she scooped up the snow and began to build a barrier to fill the narrow entrance. Her fingers numbed quickly, but she worked until the entrance was walled off up to a meter in height. She would return to finish her work if more drift accumulated.

The draft was lessened, allowing their cave to grow warmer. Byleth warmed her hands against the tiny fire, feeling returning to her hands: biting pain. She had taken too long to build the block. She sighed, keeping her hands close to the flame as she laid alongside the fire. Exhaustion swept over her. Seteth’s steady breathing and the crackle of the fire lulled her to sleep.

It was cold, uncomfortable. But dreams found her. Dreams of a warm smile. Kind words, hands on hers. Those bright green eyes. Emerald hair…

\---

A chill stirred Seteth. The fire was reduced to only a few embers. Hastily, he pulled a pair of logs from the pile and rekindled the fire. He glanced across to see Byleth sleeping, her hands out next to the fire, bright red.

He winced as he saw her shiver, then looked beyond her to see that she had built a wall of snow along the entrance, to keep the wind at bay. His heart ached as he glanced back down to her raw hands.

A drift of snow was still coming in from the top part of the entrance. Seteth decided to do what he could to continue her work. He examined her technique: snowballs that were patted flat upon each other. Carefully he added what he could, worried he would collapse the structure. The wall grew another foot before he retreated to warm his hands. It would have to do.

He warmed his hands, watching her. Her eyelashes fluttered in some unknown dream. Her face was peaceful, not in that eternal frown that seemed reserved just for him. It was captivating to watch her.

She shivered again, curling into a more fetal position, her hands almost too close to the fire.

He got up and bounded over, pulling her hands away, towards her chest. One hand latched onto his, pulling his arm.

“Daddy, it’s cold.” She whined.

_ She must be dreaming about her father. _ Seteth’s heart sank as he thought of Flayn. How worried she must be back at the monastery. Heaving a sigh, he sank down next to her, allowing her to keep hold of his hand as he drifted back to sleep, trying to leave some distance between them.

_ Sothis forgive me. _ He prayed.

\---

Maybe the dying howl of the wind roused her. Maybe it was the new weight over her side. Or the new warmth. Byleth groaned and yawned, squeezing the warm object in her hands close to her chest and nuzzling into the soft warmth that was already pressed against her back. She hummed as her waking thoughts began to recall her situation.  
A masculine sigh snapped her back to reality. Her eyes shot open to see the thing she held so close to her breast was a hand. Turning slowly, she discovered to her horror, the image of a sleeping Seteth nuzzling into her back. _Spooning_.

She froze, staring at him for a beat, holding her breath.

A groggy green eye cracked open, accompanied by a “hm?” It was a few seconds before the waking world returned to Seteth. His eyes grew wide as he realized he was face to face with Byleth.

“You.” She growled.

“You were almost burned last night, I pulled your hands away from the fire and you wouldn’t let go--” The words poured out of him at lightning speed.

“Your cock is rubbing against my ass again.” She snarled.

“It most certainly is n--” He backed away, realizing he did, in fact, have morning wood. “Language!” His face turned bright red.

The absence of his heat against her back was like a shock. She instantly regretted her words. “Whatever. What happens in the cave, stays in the cave.” She rolled back over, realizing she never let go of his hand. She pulled him back with a grunt.  
“I must insist you let go.”  
“It’s cold.”  
“That’s because the fire is dying.” Seteth huffed, his hot breath hitting her neck.

She swore, allowing him his hand back. He crawled across the cave and set another log on the fire. Dawn began to illuminate the crack above the snow wall, and she turned to see it had grown.  
“You made it higher.”

“It will snow again soon.” He looked through the opening to the sky. “We can’t leave yet.”  
“Walking in that snow for an extended period would be unwise.”  
“Then we will wait.” Seteth sat across from her, staring into the fire. He folded his hands together as he muttered a brief prayer. She watched him, sitting up and stretching.  
When he was finished with his prayer, she asked, “Are you hungry?”  
“I can wait. If we are to be here another day then I will try to abstain as long as possible.” _Abstain. Good._ His cock finally relaxed.  
“I can wait too.”  
“Do we have enough firewood?”  
Byleth glanced at the pile. “If we keep the fire small, then we will be okay. Better if we can wall up the entrance even more.” Seteth watched as she got up and went to the fresh snowdrift, beginning to make more snowballs to pile up.

“That’s quite a bit of snow.” Seteth observed. She continued to work, refusing to acknowledge the comment. “It reminds me of a fable.”

Seteth waited for a response. After a minute, he began to tell the tale of the North Wind and the Sun. It was all he could do to pass the time. Even if she wasn’t listening or didn’t care for it, telling the story aloud brought him comfort, and reminded him of when he read stories to Flayn by a warm fire before bed.

\---

Byleth didn’t mind Seteth’s fables. As she continued to build the block to the entrance, Seteth shared another fable, which amused her. He began providing additional commentary in his tales, probably to humor himself.

His self-entertainment caught her attention, and as the last of the drift was packed into the entrance (up to two meters now), she found herself engaged and listening as he rambled on over the fire. She began asking questions as the stories went on, and laughing at Seteth’s additional corny jokes.

Putting another log on the fire, Byleth began to make shadow puppets along the cavern wall to accompany his stories. When the tiny patch of sky left open in the wall grew dark once more, they found themselves laughing and joking over the stories like old friends.

“And you wrote all of these?” Byleth wiped a tear from her eye after regaining her composure from a fit of giggles.  
“Most of them,” Seteth shrugged with a chuckle. “You end up with a lot of time on your hands over the years.”  
“It doesn’t seem that way with the way you work. Just how old are you?”

“Well, you can always guess my age.”  
“Fourty?”  
He gasped. “Really?”  
“Well if it weren’t for your attitude, I’d think you were younger.”  
“I thought I looked twenty six.”  
Byleth chortled.

“I… don’t?”

“Maybe thirty five.” She laughed. “Come on, how old are you?”

“I… I’ve lost count.”  
“Very funny. Come on, we can do the math.”  
“No, really. I’ve lost count.”  
“What?”  
“You said earlier what happens in the cave, stays in the cave. Does that still apply?” Seteth stared at the fire.

“Of course.”  
“I’m begging you, this must be kept secret. For my safety. For Flayn’s.” He met her gaze, his face solemn.  
She sat up, “I swear it.”  
“You know how your father didn’t know his age?”  
“Yeah. Alois even mentioned an old story about him drinking with dad, saying he was over a hundred or something. I thought it was a joke, but…”  
“Well yes. It is possible. He was… blessed after saving Rhea’s life, a very long time ago.”  
“I see.”  
“Well, I am also quite long-lived. I lost count centuries ago, but I suppose I’d be well over one thousand years old now.”  
“No way!” Byleth gasped. “And Flayn?”  
“She, too, is quite long-lived. I imagine you will be too, since what happened five years ago…”  
“You mean my hair changing?” Goosebumps crawled over her flesh as she recalled the conversation with Sothis.

“I used to be known as Saint Cichol, truly.” Seteth admitted. “I suppose you have every reason to doubt me--”  
“I believe you.”

“You do?”  
“It makes sense. That and what she said…”  
“She?”  
“Nevermind.” Byleth shook her head. “I think that after my hair changed, I became… like you in a way.”

“I thought so. Rhea never explained it to me. I want to find her and get answers.” Seteth sighed.  
“I want those answers, too.”  
“You know she wanted you to head the church in her absence. I know you are working with the Alliance, but would you consider…?”  
“Perhaps. I believe Rhea is still out there. We should try to find her first. I still am learning about the church.”  
“I understand. You do not need to hold any obligation to the church. It was just Rhea’s wish.” He replied.  
“While I may not understand everything about the church, I am learning quite a bit. I think your lessons are paying off. Besides, I still need an excuse to continue flying lessons… with the legendary Saint Cichol.” Byleth winked.

Seteth blushed, “Please. Seteth is fine. I appreciate you trying.”

“I won’t admit it anywhere else.”  
“What happens in the cave, stays in the cave.” He held up a hand as if taking a vow.

\---

Night fell as the fables continued. Byleth had made a poor attempt at constructing her own fable through improvisation. The fire waned, a breeze cutting through the opening, sending a whirl of Byleth’s scent through Seteth’s senses.

She was laughing with him as she laid next to the fire, creating more shadow puppets on the wall. The scent sent a wave through him, and he shivered as his cock stirred. He cursed it internally, but in the back of his mind, yearning awakened.

“Perhaps we should get some rest.” He sighed. His stomach countered his words with an audible growl.  
“Maybe you should have a piece of jerky.”  
“I couldn’t, we don’t have much.”  
Byleth had already pulled a piece from her pouch, biting off half a piece and handing the rest to him.  
It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. He resisted asking for more, savoring what he had. They took handfuls of snow from the small drift at the entrance to wash down the spices and taste, hoping it would keep the hunger further at bay.

“You made this?” He asked.  
“Yep.”  
“It was delicious.” Seteth complimented.  
“You’re just saying that because you’re starving.” She muttered, blushing.

“No, I mean it. Would you… make more when we return to Garreg Mach.”

“In exchange for more flying lessons.”  
“Deal.”

Seteth laid down with a sigh, staring up at the cavern ceiling. “The snowfall has ended, should we head out tomorrow?”  
“We’ll wait until noon, hopefully some of it will have melted, it will make the mountains easier to climb.”  
“Good plan. Perhaps we can find a road or trail and find an inn before dark.”  
“You really think we’ll be safe in enemy territory like that?”  
“It’s better than a cave or freezing to death. It could be worth trying our luck.”  
“Good point.” She agreed, yawning. “Good night, Seteth.”  
“Good night, Byleth.”  
Seteth turned to watch her as she drifted to sleep next to the fire, across from him. He kept an eye on the fire, and as he grew tired, the flames grew low. He placed one of the last few logs on the embers, stoking the flames. They illuminated Byleth’s soft features as if she were the goddess herself, radiant.

His balls ached, but sleep overwhelmed his urges.

\---

A whimper roused him. Byleth was shivering. The log he had just placed on the fire was now ash. He sighed, picking up another log and stoking the flames again, before rising to join Byleth’s side.

She groaned and rolled into him as he laid his arm over her side. His cheeks burned as she nuzzled her face into his neck, pressing against him. Despite the winter whirling around them in its final act, Byleth smelled like those lush summer nights and jasmine.

“Byleth, please realize that it’s me.” Seteth whispered, trying to push her gently away. “You were cold, this is practical.”  
She cracked an eye open, murmuring, “What happens in the cave, stays in the cave.” She nuzzled further into him, her breath on his neck.

He groaned unable to stifle the growing erection. “Please do not be surprised if--”

“You’re hard. I know.”

“Byleth--” Her hand slipped down to feel the contour of his cock straining against his trousers. “You’re not helping this situation.” He hissed.

She shivered, “It’s freezing. It’s boring. What better way to warm up and pass the time?”  
“Are you mad?”  
“I’m being practical.” Her teeth chattered. “Think about it.” She moved back to look him in the eye, her face stoic. “Your lips are blue. Not a good sign, even for a thousand-year-old.”

“I am a holy man, I cannot do something like this.” He gulped.

“You did before, didn’t you?”

“That was a long time ago.”  
“I understand. I am sorry. I did not mean to overstep. I don’t want to pressure you.” Byleth apologized, sincere. “Are you okay with me like this?” She snuggled back into him.  
“Yes, that is fine.” His mind was racing, his cock throbbing. He was grateful she backed down, but this wasn’t the first time the idea had crossed his mind in the past day. It was practical, and holiness was relative. He didn’t know how much longer the firewood would last, and if his lips were blue… he did have to make it back to Flayn.

_ And her. _

Byleth had been occupying his thoughts frequently before they landed here. It had been centuries since he last… even spent some time to himself, let alone with someone.

It was practical. There were far too many reasons for him to not say no. What happened in the cave, stayed in the cave.

He groaned, his cock still flush against her, “I am cold, too. Perhaps…”

Byleth tilted her head back to look up at him, “Are you certain? I do not want to pressure you.”  
Seteth rose over her, his palms resting on the floor on either side of her shoulders. “What happens in the cave, stays in the cave.”  
“This won’t change anything.”  
“You still hate me.”  
“It can keep us warmer that way.” She growled, pulling off her clothing.

He sat back on his haunches, carefully removing his, but draping his robe over his shoulders as a blanket for them both. The rest of their clothes were laid out beneath them. He watched her work, her form beautiful, a layer of muscle rippling under her plush pale skin. She shivered as she laid on her side, and he laid next to her, pulling his robe over them both.  
His face was bright red as his fingers traced over his shaft, twitching. “I-it’s been a while.”  
“I am not here to judge, asshole.” She growled, sliding over him. She straddled him, her pale curls brushing against his tightening, aching balls.  
“You’re the one that started this.” He snarled. “Dreadful creature.”  
“Shut up, you pompous fool.” She hissed, leaning over him. “If you say another word I’ll dry up and this will be most unpleasant for the both of us.”  
“How crude--” She slapped a hand over his mouth, as she aligned herself over him. Her wet heat dripped over his head, pulling a stifled moan from him as his eyes fluttered shut.

“You  _ are  _ pent up.” She observed, noting the size of his balls. He was very well endowed, probably the biggest she’d ever seen. She swallowed the lump of anxiety in her throat as she took a deep breath and lowered herself over him.

She bit back a moan as he twitched. An unholy sound erupted from deep within his throat. Her hand recoiled at it, only to help steady herself as she adjusted to his girth, still not fully sheathed.

“Ah, goddess…” Seteth groaned, his face still bright red. His palms grew sweaty as he reached up and rested them on her hips. “Please.” He begged, pulling her down to the base of his shaft. His eyes fluttered open as she cried out, rippling over him.

The cave grew very warm.

His cock throbbed, his fingers digging into her hips so tight that she yelped. He closed his eyes, a silent prayer escaping his lips.

“Seteth, please let me adjust.” She whined, easing herself forward to lay on his chest. He sighed, keeping his eyes closed tight. He wanted to explode inside of her.  
She was panting, her hot breath tickling his jawline. Her hands splayed out over the green field of his hairy chest. Strands of her hair traced along his neck. Every slight movement had his breath hitch. He had never been more aware of someone’s every move.

Byleth began to move, slowly. An agonizing pace, made only tolerable by the angelic melody of her moans. Seteth opened his eyes to see her riding him, taking his cock at a quickening pace, her eyes darkened with lust, mouth agape. Praising him. His size. His patience, his body.

\---

He looked up at her with utter adoration. Her vision was hazy, but she was warm, and he was warm. He grunted until she quickened her pace and soon a chorus of his moans harmonized with hers.

His lidded eyes sparkled in the firelight, pulling her into them. She grinded into him, planting breathless kisses up his neck and along his jawline, into the coarse green facial hair that framed his divine features.

He shifted under her, his hands gripping her hips and helping her with a steady rhythm as he began to thrust up into her. As the rhythm steadied, he reached up with one hand to caress her breast, brushing his fingers over her nipple. The sensation made her twitch, her pussy clenching around him, her body begging for more knowing she could not form words.

She nipped his neck as he thrusted harder, faster, chasing his orgasm. Her release came sooner.

She reached down, brushing a hand along his cheek, “Seteth,” her words breathy. “I’m going to--I’m gonna cum!” She rippled over him, her body tensing as her pussy leaked over his length, before falling limp against his chest.

He stilled for a moment, still inside her, throbbing, aching. He watched her, and as she looked up to meet his gaze, he leaned forward and kissed her. Deeply, passionately, their tongues locking in a dance until she had to draw back to gasp for breath.

Seteth moaned, giving a small thrust as a question.  
“I’m not done yet, either.” She chuckled, drawing back to resume her initial position.  
He followed, sitting up and pulling her into another lustful kiss.


	5. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Seteth continue to grow quite intimate while in the cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're fucking
> 
> aw yis
> 
> please leave comments this was a long ass sex scene because 1- Seteth is pent up from CENTURIES and 2- Byleth hasn't experimented since she merged with Sothis so she doesn't know the extent of her stamina
> 
> I always imagine Seteth as a considerate and intense lover

He sat up, kissing her and only getting her pull away because his cock demanded the attention. She rode him gently, regaining her pace. He leaned forward, kissing her nipples, never getting enough of her taste and wanting all of her.

Seteth was in ecstasy. And from the way Byleth sounded, she was, too.  
“Byleth, please don’t stop,” he rasped. “I’m so close.”  
She rode harder, faster. His hips cantered in pace with her movement, chasing release. His moans crescendoed as his thrusts grew desperate and erratic. His eyes pinched closed as he chased release.

“Ah, Byleth! Yes!” Her name like a prayer as he found release, opening his eyes to see stars and the blur of pale green hair as she threw her head back and found another orgasm over him. She milked him as he came, their juices leaking out over his balls before they both collapsed. He fell limp, his breaths labored. She fell over his chest, still impaled on him, catching her wind in time with him.

Heat. Sweet heat and bliss that he never wanted to end.

He glanced down to see Byleth dozing over him, his robes draped only over her ass. He brushed a hand over her hair before kissing her head as he reached down to pull the robe over her shoulders.

Her hand coiled into his chest hair as her breath finally steadied and with a sigh, she looked up to him with a soft smile. She kissed him, her lips sweet.

“I should… get off.”  
“I don’t want you to just yet.” He whispered, clasping her hand in his. He was still hard. Still horny. His balls still ached.  
“You don’t want me to?” Her cheeks grew bright red. His cock twitched. “Oh… I see.” She gasped.

“When I say it’s been a while…”  
“Years?”  
“Centuries.”  
Byleth’s eyes grew wide and she pursed her lips.

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” He added.

“I suppose I could go again. Actually, since… the incident…” She combed her fingers through her hair, “I have had a lot more… stamina.”  
“We are quite compatible,” he murmured as he kissed her once more.

“I suppose so,” she crooned before kissing his neck. Her fingers wove up into his hair, brushing over his angled ear. She paused, repeating the gesture. “Your ears…”  
In a quick movement, and without unsheathing himself, he flipped her over so she was on her back. He loomed over her, still inside. Her face flushed as she stammered, a side of her he never even imagined existed.

“Was that too forward?” Seteth paused, completely still.

Her legs slid to lock around his hips as she glanced away, as if to hide her embarrassment. “N-no. It’s fine.” She bit at her thumb, staring at the fire.

He reached down, pulling her hand away from her face, his fingers locking between hers before pinning it over her head. His other hand mimicked the action. His cock twitched again, pulling a soft moan from her.  
“Cichol…”

The name set fire to his blood and he thrust into her with a beastly noise. “Say it again.”

“Cichol,” she moaned and he thrust again, pulling the name once more. He continued to drive into her with deep thrusts as she cried out his true name, a name he hadn’t heard addressing him directly for years. A name he yearned to year like that for centuries. The name soon devolved into those beautiful moans as she clutched his back, arching hers. She threw her head back and he licked her neck before sucking several kisses over her.

She gasped, never knowing passion like the throws she was in now. She certainly had partners before, but nothing felt like this explosion of heat. Another orgasm tore into her as she managed to cry his name once more. His release followed hers, jets of hot cum filling her again, oozing from between them.

And still she wanted more.

“Byleth,” he panted before diving into another kiss and breaking away to breathe, “again.” It sounded like a demand more than a question.

She would have obliged either way.

“You feel amazing,” she gasped as a calloused hand palmed her breast.

“I never want to stop,” Seteth was already thrusting at a frantic pace again, diving into her neck to taste her, her scent like a drug when mixed with his own. He needed more, the smell of their fluids mixing making his urges even stronger.

“Please, don’t stop. Don’t stop Cichol.” She whined, tensing as another orgasm readied to rip through her.

“Anything, my love. I will do anything you ask.” He panted. Sweat trickled down his back as he captured her lips in a kiss once more, their tongues meeting again. A muffled cry escaped her as she tensed.

“I- I- Cichol!” She cried, and a final orgasm tore through them simultaneously.

A shaky moan erupted from his throat in the form of her name. “Byleth!”

He dropped to his elbows, still managing to somehow stay over her. Both of them panting, gazing into each other’s eyes.

The roar in their ears subsided, the need quenched at last. Their mixed scents were heaven amidst the warmth of the cave.

Byleth’s eyes from from his to glance at the fire. The last few embers glowed in a pile of ash. Seteth looked the other way, to see the sky beyond the opening lighten.

“The fire.”

“It’s almost day.”  
“I should--” She looked back at him before glancing down between them, where he remained inside of her.

“Ah, yes. I’m sorry. Let me just--”  
She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Gently.” She whispered.  
He froze, staring into her piercing eyes. “As you wish.” He said, slowly pulling free after a long moment. The mix of their scents was overwhelming as he pulled out.

\---

Her mind raced. The smell hit her like a wall. She  _ adored  _ it. It was heavenly. His smell, like the sea and citrus, was heavenly on his own. Her own scent mixed with it was pure bliss. She wanted to smell like that all the time and deep down she prayed it wouldn’t fade, knowing that wasn’t likely to happen.

She glanced down, looking at the mess that poured out of her. She swore, then shot an apologetic look to Seteth.

“I’ll take care of it,” he leaned forward and kissed her. Her cheeks burned as she sat in silence as he reached for the snowdrift and grabbed a handful, rubbing it over the mess and wiping what he could up with a handkerchief. “This will take care of most of it, and the clothes will be dry by the time we need to leave.” He looked up to her, “If you would be so kind.” He nodded to the fire, reminding her to grab the second to last log.  
“S-sorry.” She blurted, snapping out of her stare and rekindling the fire. She inched back from him, pulling her knees to her chest.  
“Something the matter?” Seteth asked, eyeing her as he finished brushing off the snow from their clothes.

She was certain her face couldn’t get any redder. She shook her head before hiding her face in her knees.  _ What have I done? _

Warm arms snaked around her in an embrace, a wall of muscle pressed against her back, vibrating with a contented hum.

“Come now, we should rest before we have to get going.” He scooted back and laid down, tugging on her hand. “It’s still quite cold.” She gulped, easing back to his side nuzzling into his neck to smell their delicious mixed scent. He pulled his robe up over them and held her close.

“I’ll need herbs soon. You know, to stop--”  
“I’ll take care of it. I promise. Don’t worry.” He kissed her forehead.

“Are you sure?”  
He cracked open a sleepy eye to meet her gaze, “What happens in the cave, stays in the cave.” He grinned.  
It was all the assurance she needed. Relief escaped her in a sigh as she placed a gentle kiss on his lips, before dozing in his arms.


	6. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Seteth begin to make their way back to the monastery. Byleth falls ill, and Seteth must care for her. In her feverish state, she becomes very demanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooooooooo there is still a LOT more to this fic but it's definitely gonna get spicyyyyyyyyyyyyy
> 
> if you have prompts for Setleth, let me know!

Byleth punched through the wall of snow in the entrance. It felt like she was punching a hole through his heart. Yet they had already lingered too long, the last log on the fire had long since turned to ash. The afternoon sun melted much of the snow, but still the outside world was blanketed, accompanied by the siestan berceuse of the melt.

She glanced back at him, hesitant to step out into the sun. “What happens in the cave--”  
He held up a hand, closing his eyes, “Stays in the cave.” A vow.

At least now he was able to think clearly, and they were alive. There would be no more tomfoolery of that sort.

Her expression was stoic, confirming his words with a small nod. She inhaled, meeting his gaze one last time, before stepping out into the sun. He followed, into the cold world outside, the snow crunching under their boots the only sound between them.

She led the way, facing the still chilly breeze ahead that battered her hair and tinged her cheeks. He lingered a few steps behind, mulling over the amount of work he would have to do upon their return. He had no time for such a long detour, a major hindrance to progress with the monastery, the war effort, and the search for Rhea.

The sun sank and her pace slowed until she fell in step alongside him. He eyed her, flushed face, her arms crossed over her chest, shivering. He could bear the wind, but her clothing was far less suited for enduring the trek over the mountains.

He glanced up at the canopy ahead of him, noticing a break in the trees. “There may be a path ahead.”  
“Hm.” She nodded, following him as he quickened his pace ahead of her.

He could see it, a small road ahead. Eyeing the fading sunset, he noted the direction of the road was headed southeast. He ran down the mountainside to it, noting no tracks from earlier passersby.

“A good sign, we should be free of worry about highwaymen.” He beamed, looking back over his shoulder to see…

\---

Byleth trudged after Seteth, but the world around her flashed between freezing cold and blazing hot. Her head spun, her stomach ached. Her feet were sore and her legs numb. She stumbled downhill after him, unable to keep up.

Her vision faded, blackening the world around her.

\---

Byleth laid face down in the snow on the hillside as Seteth rushed to her. He gasped, pulling her up and turning her over so she lay across his lap. He brushed his hand over her forehead, wincing at the blazing fever she had. Her face flushed and she whimpered.  
“Can you walk?”  
She whined a negative.

“Perhaps there is an inn not too far from here. Have you any money?” He asked.

Another groan.

He exhaled, hoisting her up in his arms and carrying her down the road. He was tired, the snow slowing him and a winter draft chilling him. It was dark, the occasional moonlight piercing the clouds to illuminate the path before him, until a faint light appeared through the woods.

An inn. A small place at a crossroads with an adjacent stable and well. He worried without any money if they would take him, mulling over how he could assure them the church could cover their expenses without documentation. Eyeing the nearly depleted pile of firewood, he considered labor for bargaining.

He rapped on the door, “Pardon me, but we are weary travelers from the church in need of shelter.”  
The door creaked open to a tiny old woman. “We have no space travelers…”  
“Please I beg you, anything will do. She has fallen ill…” Seteth glanced down to Byleth’s strained flushed face.

“Have you horses you need to rest?”  
“No, we have nothing--”

“Those damned bandits again. I suppose you have no coin, either.” She sighed. He shook his head. “My inn is full because these travellers are afraid of the thieves in the area. No one can pass without getting mugged.”

“Your firewood is low, perhaps in exchange for labor we could stay? Please, she is burning up.”  
The woman looked between him and Byleth. “There is the attic… You and your… wife can stay there. Restock my firewood and I will have you both for… two days.” She stood aside, allowing him to carry Byleth inside.

The first level of the inn looked much like a regular tavern. An adolescent boy served ale to a group of chattering merchants. In the corner, two mercenaries donning imperial colors played cards. His heart sank, he would have to use the utmost caution with them.  
“Names please?” The woman asked, opening her ledger at the bar.  
Without thinking, he replied, “Cichol.”  
“Like the saint?”  
“Er, yes. I was named after him. My family has been involved with the church for generations.”  
“And her?”  
He exhaled, glancing around the inn for inspiration, focusing on the fire. “Ember? Ember.”  
“Alright Mr. Cichol, you and your wife will have the attic. Follow me.” He opened his mouth to correct the woman the second time she mentioned Byleth as his wife, but decided against it. It would be better for their cover, especially with the mercenaries present. He followed the woman up to the attic, where she unlocked the door and handed him the key. It was small and musty, the roof angled the ceiling-walls making it much narrower than he anticipated. A small bed just barely large enough for two lay in the center before a small window. Three ragged quilts sat folded in a stack over the barren cot, alongside a pile of worn pillows. He had never been so happy to see a bed in his life.  
“Thank you madam. Your generosity is most appreciated. Do you have any other tasks you require around the inn?”  
“My grandson helps me mostly. Still he could always use help milking the cows and making meals.”  
“Consider it done.”  
The woman’s eyes grew wide, “Thank you sir. I will have my grandson bring up a meal for you both shortly.” He nodded as she left.

He gingerly laid Byleth against the door before making the bed ready. He picked her up and laid her down, propping her head up on a couple of pillows so that he could care for her. He sat next to her on the edge of the bed, brushing her bangs from her burning brow with a sigh.  
“We just can’t catch a break.” He looked out the window to see the moon peeking from behind the clouds. “I hope they are looking for us.”

The boy brought up a tray of soup and tea for them, leaving it on the scuffed chest next to the door. “I hear you will be helping me tomorrow?”  
“Anything I can do to repay your kindness. Please just say the word. As long as she has time to rest.” He glanced down at Byleth, who laid still, her breaths shallow.  
“Thank you sir. I will see you tomorrow at dawn.”  
Seteth nodded as the boy left, picking up the tray and setting it in his lap. He brushed his hand along Byleth’s cheek as he examined the contents: vegetable stew, flatbread, and ginger tea.  
“Byleth, please wake up. I have food for you.”  
A glazed eye cracked open to look at him. “Mm?”

He picked up a spoon, scooping some of the stew up and bringing it to her lips. They parted, consuming the broth. She grunted.

“You’re ill. Please, eat something.”

She whimpered and complied, allowing him to feed her a few spoonfuls before offering her some tea.

“Pitiful creature,” he tutted as her eyes fluttered closed. He consumed the rest of the food and tea, setting the tray aside before returning to the bed. His brow furrowed as he realized just how small the bed was and sighed. He slipped under the covers, curling around her and drifting to sleep.

Byleth still had a fever in the morning. Reluctant to leave, Seteth knew leaving her to rest was probably the best option as he went to assist the innkeeper’s grandson with making breakfast, before going out to chop wood.

\---

Byleth roused, fever throbbing her head. She was in a small room with an angled ceiling, unsure of how she got there. A rhythmic chopping drew her attention to the window, where she spotted Seteth chopping wood by a stable, his blouse open revealing the green on his chest. Her cheeks burned, and she was unsure if it was from the fever as she watched him, handling an axe as if it were second nature to him. An impressive pile of wood accumulated nearby.

She glanced around the room again, spotting a tray of tea atop his neatly folded robes. She reached for it, a wave of dizziness forcing her to lay back down. She waited a beat before moving more deliberately to get herself a drink. Her distaste for the bite of ginger was overwhelmed by her nausea as she drank while watching Seteth from the window.

She did not know much about the situation she was now in, and the mercenary in her told her that she had better stay put, especially in her state.

A gentle knock on the door startled her before it opened. “Ah, you’re awake. I’m glad to see you’ve found the tea. Do you need anything?” An elderly woman asked, picking up the tray. Byleth shook her head, handing over her empty cup. “Mr. Cichol was so worried about you. Please rest. You’re so lucky to have a husband like him.”  
Byleth’s eyes grew wide, her cheeks burning even more. “I--”

“You slept in your clothes, oh you poor dear. Why don’t I wash them for you? I’ll be doing your husband’s clothes later.” The old woman scurried over and began to help a very confused Byleth disrobe. “I’ll get you taken care of, just rest.”

“I really don’t think I need my clothes washed, could you just--”  
“I’ll tell him you’re awake.” The woman bustled out of the room, Byleth’s clothes in her arms. Byleth collapsed back into the pillows.

“What the  _ hell _ ?” She muttered, beginning to doze off again.

\---

“Your wife was awake when I went to check on her. Why don’t you rest and go see her?” The innkeeper interrupted Seteth’s woodcutting. He wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing over to the impressive pile of firewood he had accumulated. The snow around the in had melted even more since it was midday, leaving only patches of white behind.

“I have hardly finished here, madam.”  
“Please, go see her.” The woman shooed him into the inn.

Seteth exhaled, making his way to the attic, hoping that the woman didn’t say anything to Byleth. Byleth was dozing off as he opened the door, and her eyes snapped open to him as he entered the attic.

“Hello  _ husband _ .” She hissed, shrinking under the covers.

“It’s not what you think.” He warned, “Please hear me out.”  
“How the hell did I end up here?”  
Seteth’s tone was hushed, “There are imperial mercenaries here, and they only hang around because the bandits in the area outnumber them. If word gets out about who we are, we’re both in worse shape than we started.” Byleth curled her lip. “So for now, I am Mr. Cichol, and you are my wife, Ember.”  
“Awful.” She muttered.  
“You’re sick and you need to rest. The innkeeper is allowing me to work here so you can rest one more night. My hope is that some part of the search will reach out here before tomorrow so we can get back.” Seteth sighed.

“We should just leave.” Byleth sat up, hugging the covers over her. Her eyes rolled back and she swayed before collapsing back into the bed.  
“Not likely. You should rest, you’re feverish.”  
“I’ll be fine. Claude even stopped by--”  
“You have been having fever dreams, you need to rest. I explained to the innkeeper that we were both attacked by bandits so that we didn’t have to deal with any other explanations. Just rest. I’m going out to chop more wood.”  
“N-No.” She muttered. “You come here, I have a bone to pick with you.” She flung an arm out to swipe at him. He rolled his eyes, turning to the chest and getting a small bowl and rag and easing over to her. He wrung the cloth out and set the bowl aside. Her arm swiped out again, hooking into his collar and yanking him toward her with surprising strength. “I’m gonna kill you for this, Seteth.” She hissed.  
“Do shut up,” he rolled his eyes, reaching up to dab at her forehead. She winced and drew back before he growled at her, then allowed him to continue his work. Her eyes were glassy and wild with the fever, her face flushed. “The way you dress is so inappropriate, honestly.” He dabbed down her neck and pulled back the covers, his eyes growing wide. “W-Where are your clothes?”

“Lady took ‘em.” She muttered, glaring at him. He averted his eyes, blushing.

He coughed. “You could have warned me.”

“Mmmh.” She grunted, hooking her arm over his neck and pulling him over her. “You’re warm. Warm me up.”  
“Byleth…” He whined, feeling his cock strain against his pants. “It’s your fever.”  
Her eyes flashed, suddenly lucid, “I need you to touch me, Seteth.”  
“Are you _mad_?”

“Release can help me get better faster.” She replied, terse. “Touch me.”

“And what about what happens in the cave, stays in the cave?”

“It applies to attics too. I will make it up to you.”  
“How?” He narrowed his eyes.  
“Helping you catch up with your duties at Garreg Mach. Extra choir practice, all of it. I need to get out of this and be ready for anything.”  
“I understand.” He sighed, easing into the bed next to her.

\---

Byleth’s fever was driving her mad. She lost herself intermittently, unsure if she was being coherent or not. What was reality?

Seteth came to see her. Looking at him she was reminded of the way she could always bounce back from being sick. If it was him, surely he wouldn’t make a fuss of helping her. And if it was just another fever dream, then she could indulge herself.  
Her arms, hands, legs… everything tingled. Her vision was hazy, blurred. Her breathing grew heavy, unsure if it was her hand that wandered over her belly and down to the apex of her thighs.

She wanted it, dream or not.  _ It is a dream, though, right? _

Her head rolled to the side.  _ Yes, it’s a dream. _ Seteth kissed her neck, a hand reaching under her to knead her other breast. She lay in the crook of his arm as his other hand traced around her sex.  _ Except it’s not him. It’s just my imagination. He just happened to be at the right place for me, that pompous, stuck up, no-good, green-haired oaf. _

She whimpered, certain she could feel his heat as if he were laying next to him. “You fucking tease.”

He was convenient, though, That convenience is what made her want him, nothing more. This half-dreamt Seteth’s hand circled his fingers around her entrance, drawing slick from her to bring up to her clit, brushing against the bud as if he was taunting her.

“You bastard, even now you torment me.” She hissed.

If he spoke, his words were muffled. Just the way she liked him, silent. Every time he opened his mouth she grew furious with his words.

She could almost feel his hard cock in his trousers, pressed against her leg.

“Touch me you son of a bitch!” She whined, bucking her hips.

At last a finger plunged into her core. Another joined it soon after as a thumb circled her clit. The other hand pinched at her nipple. She arched her back, moaning.

\---

“Seteth, please.” She moaned as he delved his fingers into her, resisting the urge to unleash his cock that strained so painfully against the seam of his pants.

He didn’t want to take advantage of her. He wasn’t even sure if this was right, but she was lucid and demanding, swearing and calling his name. At times when he broke from kissing her neck to gaze down at her, her eyes were lidded and glassy, while other times they seemed bright and fiery. He didn’t know what to make of her as she came undone in his hands.

He refused to admit it to himself, but deep down he adored it. His cock ached and watching her unravel was an unparalleled spectacle. He murmured to her how much he wanted her, how much he wanted to take her, but his uncertainty held him back, only allowing his fingers to cater to his sick companion’s demands.

Besides, he wouldn’t get such an opportunity again after returning to the monastery.

His fingers plunged into her at a faster pace until she clenched over him, cumming over his hand and arching into him before collapsing. She was instantly asleep as he pulled free of her, sliding his hands free. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek before pulling her blankets up and then looked down at his dripping fingers.

Hesitant, he stared at them for a moment, before drawing him to his lips. The taste was divine. He bucked his hips in midair as he suckled his fingers, his other hand palming his erection outside of his pants.

_ Snap out of it. _

He cursed, pulling the nectared fingers from his lips and growling. She had an excuse, he did not. And she was still the insufferable professor from how she cursed him as he caressed her.

His aching erection subsided and he left to continue his work for the innkeeper.


	7. Repent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth's fever broke, but she finds herself closer to Seteth than she wants to be. An argument ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, they cannot stop fucking! I will not take further questions.
> 
> Don't worry, more plot will happen soon, but I really needed them to hatefuck before this moved further along. Don't worry it's all consensual, just very subtle.

Byleth awoke feeling refreshed. Through the window, the sky grew dim. Certain that her fever broke, she thanked her final fever dream for being so enjoyable.  _ Wait, was it a dream? _ She shuddered, daring to not tread that path in her thoughts. She glanced outside to see Seteth chopping wood, the pile even larger now. He had discarded his shirt. She watched him, staring at him until he stopped, leaning his axe against the stump and stretching with a grunt.

Muffled voices below called him inside. Byleth sat up, glancing around the room. She was still naked, and there was no sign of her clothes. Cursing, she was left to the confines of her bed for a while longer.

Footsteps neared the door some time later, and she ducked under the covers to see Seteth enter, a towel wrapped around his hips.

“Ah, you’re awake. Did you sleep well?” He asked the question with a smirk as he sat on the edge of the bed.

She shrank further away. “Where are your clothes?”  
“The innkeeper insisted on washing them. Yours should be dry soon.”  
“Were… were you here earlier?” She asked.

He looked at her from the corner of his eye, “I don’t know, was I?”

“Stop being an ass!” She kicked him, pushing him out of the bed and onto the floor.

“Oh so you call me an ass now, too? Compared to the slew of swears you hurled at me earlier, I suppose I should consider myself lucky.” He snarled. “Do mind your manners, at least while we’re here.”

“Excuse me?”

“You really shouldn’t be so loud with your swearing and griping. They think we’re married, remember?”

“Hmph.”  
“Though you were pretty loud and convincing, earlier.” He chuckled, rubbing his neck as he got to his feet.

Her eyes grew wide, “ _ No _ . No! That was a fever dream!”

“Afraid not, though you seemed so lucid. Begging me, really.” He smirked.

“I… I guess I was awake for some of it. I do recall…” She hung her head in shame, blushing. “You ass. Don’t you dare speak a word of this to anyone!”  
“What happens in the attic, stays in the attic.” He shrugged. The towel around his hips fell to the floor.

She finally caught a good look at him, outside of the dim light of the cave. He was marvelous. His broad chest and shoulders sculpted with muscle, peppered with green hair. From his rippled abdomen, a trail of green flowed from his navel to a lush patch above his flacid but well-endowed length, draped before an ample sack. His muscled legs shifted as he folded his arms over his chest, watching her stare.

“Problem?” He cocked an eyebrow, unashamed of his nudity, as if he was doing it to taunt her.

“Sh-shut up!” She stammered, rolling over to face the wall, hiding her reddening cheeks.

\---

From the way she spat insults at him, she was feeling well enough. Seteth decided it was his turn to make her suffer in his own way.

He slid into bed next to her, pulling the covers over him, “I’m quite tired from chopping wood all day to pay for your care.”

“Get. Out.” She hissed, keeping her back to him.

“Not while I have no clothing. The innkeeper will bring our things up in a few hours, along with our dinner. That gives me enough time for a nap. You don’t mind, do you?” He smirked, rolling so his back was against hers. “After all, you may be feeling better but you should still probably rest. We don’t know how our situation will change tomorrow.”

“The only reason I tolerated you in this bed was because I was delirious.” She growled.

“You begged me to join you earlier, and I obliged without a word.” He crooned. “Try to get some more rest before dinner,  _ my lovely wife _ .”

She yanked the pillow from under his head and threw it over her face to scream. Seteth couldn’t help but chuckle before drifting off to sleep.

\---

Somehow Byleth found sleep after smothering herself with a pillow. She roused to the sound of a soft knock on their door, discovering that Seteth was spooning her in his sleep. She sat up, hiking the covers to her chest as the door cracked open.  
“Ah, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you.” The woman whispered. “I’ve brought your clothes, all clean.”

“Thank you.” She replied.  
“Will you be coming down for dinner?” She asked.  
Byleth glanced down at Seteth, fast asleep against her side. “Perhaps not. Could you--”  
“I’ll bring it up in a moment.” The woman smiled, closing the door behind her.

Byleth moved to try and slide over Seteth out of bed to get her clothes. Seteth groaned and pulled her back into place with the arm that wrapped over her side. With a huff she decided to wait.

Dinner came sometime later, and Byleth finally had a better excuse to shove Seteth out of bed. He fell onto the floor with a thud and a grunt, before springing to his feet.  
“What was that for?”  
“I’m hungry and I don’t want your nakedness rubbing all over me anymore.” She nodded to the pile of clothes and tray of food across the room. “Do you mind?”

“Yes I absolutely mind, you ungrateful fool!” He snarled. “I was sleeping! I spent all day working and trying to take care of you because you can’t be responsible for yourself, and this is how you treat me when I finally have time to rest?”  
“I would have been fine without you, you had no obligation to me.” She hissed.

“Yeah right, you selfish--”  
“Stubborn--”  
“Insolent--”  
“Bastard!”  
“Temptress!”  
Enraged, both of them stood toe to toe, eyes burning with anger. She could feel his heavy hot breath mingling with her own.

They were silent for a moment, staring each other down.  
He was the first to move, slow, deliberate. He reached up, cupping her face, he glare intense.

“Tonight we will eat and then sleep. We will not argue anymore. These walls may be thinner than we think.” His voice was low, a warning. He continued to instruct her, “We will be quiet, we will leave quietly in the morning, and we will continue our journey on foot through the woods to Garreg Mach, so that we avoid the highwaymen. We will not speak of the past few days once we return, and it will be as if it never happened.”

Her lips trembled, as this deadly calm and angry Seteth glared at her with the intensity of the summer sun. “Once we return to Garreg Mach, none of this will have happened.” She whispered to confirm, meeting his intense stare.

“Correct.”

Her eyes darted to his lips.

\---

She was infuriating, selfish, rude. She stood there, trembling before him, angry as he was. Both of them bare as the light dimmed from the window, the light through the cracks in the door becoming more apparent.

They were close enough to share breath, and as Seteth waited for her next move, she faltered, as her eyes glanced to his lips before meeting his gaze once more.

He knew exactly what she meant with her last line, and exactly what she wanted.

_ One last time. This time would be the last one. _

His hands brushed her cheeks, his fingers combing into her hair as he pulled her into a kiss, crashing her lips into hers. She sighed, allowing his tongue to reach for hers. Her hands pressed against his chest, pulling at the hair there before trailing down to explore lower. Despite the calluses, her hands were smooth and soft, terribly small compared to his. Her nimble fingers clasped around his hardening cock while her other hand massaged his balls, drawing a moan from him.

She pulled on him and he growled, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back. She whimpered as he nipped at her neck, diving into her scent. His other arm snaked around her waist and yanked her into him as he buried himself in her neck. She freed a hand from his genitals and her fingers tangled into his hair, brushing against his sensitive pointed ears.

“I’ll make you regret all those names you called me,” he let out a savage growl.  
“I’d like to see you try.” She snapped, pushing him backward into the door and sucking a trail of kisses from his coarse facial hair down to his collarbone. Her hand worked deftly around his cock, pumping him until he was fully hard.

“You’re filthy.” He snarled, shuddering under her touch.

“And you aren’t?” She chuckled softly into his ear.

“You’re testing my patience…” He growled. “Always. I’m done being patient.”  
She scoffed, goading him on.

“On the bed. Bend over.” He rumbled.

“You think I’ll take orders from you? I don’t think so.” She hissed, reaching up for his hair. He caught her wrist, his eyes dark with lust. Surprise flashed across her countenance, followed by the curl of her lip as she resisted.

He pushed her backward, pinning her wrists on the bed. She thrashed beneath him, trying to take back control, hooking her leg around him finally and throwing her weight. He rolled into the wall with a grunt, then pushed off of it to return to his position above her.

Seteth pinned both her wrists above her head with a single hand, using his free hand to pin down her leg. “You fool,” he spat. “This isn’t an open battlefield.”  
“Such behavior is improper for a man of the church.” She snapped back.

“Do you forget your own words?” He licked up her neck and murmured into her ear, “Once we return to Garreg Mach, none of this will have happened.”  
She groaned, feeling him grind his length against her, probing between her thighs. “You’re no saint.”

“You won’t be saying that in a moment.” He chuckled, biting her neck. His cock brushed against her folds, feeling the wet slick. “Oh _my_ ,” he said, “you _like_ this, don’t you?”  
“It would be better if I had my way.”  
“You did earlier, when you were cursing me in your pathetic state. You’re still weak from the fever, so why don’t you relax and let me _punish_ you for your sins.” He glazed up to see her wild eyes glaring at him as she struggled to resume her position atop him to no avail.  
“You don’t call the shots, I do!” Her voice shook as his cock prodded her entrance.  
“We’ll see about that!” He whispered into her ear before thrusting into her.

She cried out, “I hate you!”

He groaned, letting her adjust to his length as he lay fully sheathed in her. “The feeling is mutual, Byleth.”

“Ahn, you’re horrible.” She hissed as he began to pump his hips, an agonizingly slow pace.

He inhaled her scent along her neck, tightening his grip around her wrists. His other hand reached up to palm one of her plump breasts before he moved down to take the nipple in his mouth. She twitched at the contact of his lips on her breast, her pussy clenching around him. Despite her curses, her body told a very different story, as if begging him to continue.

“You’re a tease, a pompous ass!” She half-moaned.

“Keep cursing me, it will get you nowhere.” His hips halted. If he didn’t enjoy taunting her so much, he would have been in agony unmoving inside her.

She bucked her hips against him, desperate. “How dare you toy with me!”

“You should play nice to get your way. Maybe if you begged I would reconsider.” He loomed over her, looking down into her piercing eyes.

“Fuck you.” She snarled, bucking her hips up again. “Unhand me and I’ll show you your place!”

“I rather like this, though. It feels so natural having you under me, like the angry little slut you are.” He gloated with a smug grin.

She stilled, silent, her eyes wide. “You are  _ no  _ saint!” She gasped.

“Tsk, tsk. You should be begging my forgiveness if you want to get anywhere.”

She huffed.

He leaned down, whispering in her ear, “Come on now, Byleth. Be a good girl for me and I’ll give you what you want.”

Her face was bright red as she howled in rage, writhing beneath him, a slew of curses flying at him. He pumped once, pulling out so only the head of his cock rested inside her.

She whined, “Seteth, you bastard--”

“I think I’d like it better if you called me Cichol. You know,  _ Saint  _ Cichol?” He cooed.

“Fuck. You. Cichol.” She snarled.  
“Better.” He sank his cock into again, pulling a moan from her. Be picked up his pace, pounding into her, turning her curses into moans.

Her cunt tightened and she tensed as he thrust harder, deeper, pouring his frustration with her into his movement. She was close to orgasming.

“You’re such a thorn in my side.” He hissed, moving faster. “I can’t stand you sometimes.”

She whined, her fight for dominance fading as she approached release. “Please…”  
“Please what?”  
“Please don’t stop Cichol.” She blurted.  
Seteth thrust harder, feeling her clench over him, her body going taught as her back arched toward him. She drenched his cock with her orgasm before falling limp.

“Cichol…” She moaned as she rode out the waves.  
“I’m not through with you.” He growled into her ear, watching as goosebumps crawled over her skin. His cock throbbed at the sight, his balls aching. She shuddered as he released her hands. “Roll over, on all fours.” He ordered.

She whined, still reluctant to give into him. Impatient, he flipped her over and slid an arm under her hips to hoist her up so her as was plush against his cock. He growled in approval as she steadied herself, looking back at him over her shoulder.  
He kneaded her ass under his palm as he rubbed the tip of his cock along her wet folds. “Mmm, so soft. You’d better beg for my forgiveness, Byleth.”  
“I hate you.” She growled, jerking her hips away, only to be yanked back by his grip. His fingers dug into her hips hungrily.

“You disappoint me. Not only do you constantly curse me and taunt me, but now you refuse to listen to reason? Why can’t you just repent?” At the last word, he thrust into her again with a moan. Her warm wet pussy eager to welcome him back.  
“It would be no different if you were riding me, you know.” He snarled as he began a slow pace. “You demanded this from me earlier today, but when it is time to pay your dues, you refuse.”

“You’re way too full of yourself, has a millennium of self-importance blown your ego out of proportion?” She snapped.

\---

He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her up. The sensation was heavenly, and she was desperate to goad him on, freely letting her anger fly.

She loathed him, but fucking him was heavenly.  
“Full of myself?” He panted, thrusting faster. “You’re the one full of me.”  
He pulled her hair tighter, his other arm reaching around her and yanking her up against him while he railed into her. She saw stars, a muddled prayer escaping her lips.

He breathed into her ear from behind, “I am your savior, Byleth.”  
Ecstasy wrapped her body in a tingling fire, “Ah, Saint Cichol!” His hair stood on end at the cry.

“Yes, repent!” He moaned before kissing her neck, thrusting harder, He kept his grip on her hair, his other hand toying with one of her nipples. Her sounds were music to his ears, her pussy gripping his cock even tighter. He was hitting that perfect spot now that her back arched and he held her by her hair.

The sensations flooded her with euphoria as she cried out. “Cichol, ah! Cichol.” His kisses turned to nips along the nape of her neck. His name escaped her lips again, and his teeth sank into her neck in a possessive bite. Her vision blurred as she tensed again, feeling the onslaught of another orgasm. She came, “Cichol, I’m cumming!” Her cries triggered his release.

His grip on her tightened as his thrusts grew erratic, his breath ragged as he released his bite. His moans crescendoed as his cock twitched inside her, unleashing hot jets of cum as he rode out her orgasm. He shoved her forward, his hand racing to her hips, clutching them desperately against his hips as a beastly sound erupted from him.

He fell over her, his arms wrapping around her in an embrace as he held her there, still inside. She trembled as he twitched inside her, hot cum leaking from her pussy down her leg. Sleep found them swiftly.


	8. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Seteth find the Knights of Seiros. Grateful to return, the now struggle with putting the past few days behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seteth spies on Byleth lmao he's almost like a horny college dude I feel so bad for him
> 
> Byleth IS FUCKING MAD that she's horny (big same tho, I did this to myself)

Tangled in the sheets, Byleth woke to find Seteth wrapped around her, sleeping in the crook of her neck, a hand kneading into her breast as he snoozed. She furrowed her brow, trying to recall how the hell she ended up like this with him… again.

She was more frustrated that he got the better of her. Her stomach growled, demanding the now cold food across the room. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, the only light from the cracks in the door from the hallway enough to illuminate the room.

Mulling over her next move, she traced a lazy circle into Seteth’s shoulder. She  _ could  _ be a complete asshole to him, but it may only hinder their situation further. She relented, she could save it until they returned. She caught herself staring at him again.

_ Snap out of it. You two had a brief physical attraction from the dire circumstances. Nothing more. He hates you, he only tolerates you because it will help him reach his goal. You hate him, but he is useful and houses your troops. _

She sighed.  _ How could a man like him look so… No, snap out of it. You have shit to do. It will only complicate things when you return. You both needed to blow off some steam and have a good romp. Sure it didn’t play out how you wanted but it still felt… _

She reached up to rub the sore spot at the nape of her neck, from where he bit her.  _ Yeah, a hell of a good time. You idiot, you need to find some herbs asap or else… _

She was suddenly very aware that he was still inside her, half-hard. Her cheeks burned as her mind began to race. She shifted, trying to pull free from him.  
A low growl--a sound she never thought a person could make-- rumbled from him.

_ I know he’s not exactly human, but what the fuck? _

He grunted, opening an eye to look up at her. “Is something the matter?”  
“I’m hungry, and I’d like to ask the innkeeper something before she goes to bed.”  
He frowned, “I do not wish for you to move.”

“Because you’re still inside me.” She couldn’t hide the irritation in her tone. He hummed an affirmative, squeezing her. “Seteth, please.”

\---

He sighed. During his nap, he realized he really enjoyed the feeling of her. He hated to admit it, but he didn’t mind the innkeeper calling her his wife. Nor did he mind the fact that outside the monastery, he could be completely unrestrained, letting his old instincts take over.

_ She has to be such a killjoy. Why can’t she just enjoy the moment? _

“Seteth…” She whined again.  
“I wish to stay like this for a moment longer.” He hummed, nuzzling into her neck. Her scent mixed with his so perfectly.

“Seteth!” She snapped, jerking to the side.

He snarled a savage sound, biting into the nape of her neck in an instantaneous reaction.

She stiffened, slowly relaxing in his grip. He moved back, licking the spot where his teeth were before moving over her, planting his forehead against hers. He met her eyes as his cock hardened again.

“You are not going anywhere.” He growled.  
“I think you are being far too demanding.” She crossed her arms, looking away.  
He eased into her until he was at the hilt. “Am I? You had your demands, now let me have mine.”  
“I hate you.”  
“I hate you too, Byleth.” His hand brushed against her check, drawing her gaze back to him. “You took me so well.”  
“I don’t have time for this.” She sighed. “The innkeeper--”  
“My sweet summer night, be patient,” he cooed, kissing her neck.

She batted her eyes at him, “My darling beast, please. Get. Off. Me.” She persisted.

“As you wish,” he sighed, seizing her lips in a kiss as he pulled out of her with a grunt. The scent sent him reeling, his eyes darkening. “Ah.” He rolled to the side, allowing her to slide out of bed, watching her as he stroked his cock.  
She began to dress, looking up to see him pleasuring himself. “Seriously?”  
“What? It’s better than letting it go down on its own. I don’t get to do this ever.”

She rolled her eyes, continuing to dress herself.

“Really, you do not wish to wait to dress?” His tone almost begging as he fisted his cock.

“You’ll manage.” She muttered, leaving and slamming the door behind her.

He entertained himself with the fresh memories, spending himself over the sheets. “Fuck you, Byleth.”

\---

Byleth went downstairs, finding the innkeeper cleaning up the dishes after the other guests. The woman turned to her, her face bright red.  
“Ah, I see you’re better. It sounded like Mr. Cichol took good care of you.” She winked.  
Byleth stammered, “I… about that… I need some herbs.”  
“Oh, really? Ah, well I’m not sure if I have any in my stores, but let me check.” She disappeared behind the bar into a pantry. “I’m sure when you’re ready you’ll make some fine children.” Byleth could only reply with a nervous laugh as the woman handed her a small sachet of herbs. “I’ll put on a kettle for you. Will you take it down here?”  
“Sure, I could use a break. It’s a bit cozy up there and it’s nice to be out.”

The woman went about heating a kettle, “So, how did you two meet?”  
Byleth tried to recall everything about Seteth’s fabrications to the innkeeper. “We uh, well, at the church. I was… enrolled in the officer’s academy.”  
“How lovely!” The innkeeper smiled. “The way he looked at you when he first brought you here, ah my heart.”  
Byleth blushed. “He certainly is… considerate.”  
The woman set the kettle on the bar before her, alongside a cup. Byleth dropped the sachet into the cup and poured the hot water over it, steeping the remedy. The smell was bitter, but tolerable.

“Mr. Cichol says you two are leaving tomorrow. Are you really going to try to brave those highwaymen again?” She asked.  
Byleth frowned, “We’ll have to. We have business to attend to, and with a war going on…”  
“Ah yes, it seems to have everyone on edge. Blasted nobles--er, you’re not a noble, are you?”  
She gave a hearty laugh, “Not at all.” She sipped the brew, suppressing her urge to make a face.

\---

“Ah, there you are.” Seteth chimed as he bounded down the stairs to greet Byleth at the bar. He had a kick in his step and felt energized. “You know we still have food waiting for us upstairs.” He clasped her hand.

“Sorry Mr. Cichol, I just wanted to keep her for some conversation. I hope you’ll at least get some sleep tonight?” The innkeeper asked.

“Ah yes, of course.”  
The woman cleared her throat and leaned over the bar. In a hushed tone she murmured, “Please, for the sake of the other guests.”  
He was sure his face turned bright red, and his ears burned. “Of course.” He said quietly. “My apologies.” He straightened himself and turned to Byleth, “Come dear, shall we retire?” He offered his hand with a slight bow.

She sighed, and with a nod to the innkeeper, took his hand, allowing him to lead her back to the attic.

When the door closed behind them, she snapped at him, “No funny business.”  
“At least it was not suspect.” Seteth pulled off his robes. “The innkeeper seemed elated that we were enjoying our _marital bed_.”  
Byleth’s palm met her face with a groan. “Let’s get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow.” She disrobed to her smallclothes while Seteth stripped bare. “You’re sleeping like _that_?” She hissed.

“You’re sleeping like _that_?” He retorted, looking her over. She balled her fists at her sides, muttering a curse under her breath. He gave a smug grin as he slid into bed, lifting up the covers and patting the space next to him. “I won’t bite.”  
Byleth shuddered, rubbing her neck. “After today, I’m not so sure I believe you.” She eased into bed, cautiously moving to her side, so she lay on the very edge of the mattress away from him.

Rolling his eyes, he grunted, “Oh do get over it.” His arm snatched her waist and pulled her into him. He buried his face in her hair with a hum, pulling the blankets over them. “Goodnight, Byleth.” He chimed.  
“Fuck you, Seteth.” She grumbled.

\---

Seteth spooning her all night wasn’t as bad a she played it out to be. They both slept comfortably, and in the pale hours of the morning, they ate their food, took what supplies the innkeeper could offer Seteth as thanks for his above-and-beyond work, and departed.

Springtime birds sang through the woods as they diverted from the Southeast path, heading due east through the forest. Silent, Byleth blazed the trail ahead of Seteth, keeping a quick pace so she would not have to exchange words or looks with him. He seemed to enjoy taunting her with their exploits from the last few days, and she would have none of it.

Byleth stopped in her tracks, looking around.  
“What’s--”  
“Shh.” She whispered. “The forest is silent.”  
Eerily, the birds and insects had fallen mute, until a distant clash rang through the trees. Byleth’s hair stood on end as she hurried toward the sound.  
“A battle.” She looked back at the bewildered Seteth. She stopped just behind the crest of a hill, the cries of war echoing beyond. She signaled for Seteth to stay low, as she crouched and slinked behind the cover of trees to get a closer view.

The Knights of Seiros were engaged in a bloody attack against a hoard of bandits on the roadside. “Those must be the bandits that the innkeeper mentioned.” Seteth whispered, joining her side. “Shall we join our allies?”  
“No, not yet. Observe.” Byleth muttered, watching. The battle was at its climax, and both of them leaping in after a grueling past few days without certainty of weapons or the convoy supplies would only prove to be a problem. Catherine rushed through the hordes, cutting down enemies with her mighty thunderbrand, swiftly turning the tide in the Knights’ favor. “We approach after they have secured victory.” She decided.

“Very well, then.” Seteth sighed. “I suppose you wouldn’t want to join seeing as they’re not  _ your  _ comrades.”

“Do shut up. You’re a liability at this point without a weapon.” She huffed.

The battle ended to the Knights’ victory, and as they collected themselves, Byleth and Seteth emerged from the woods.  
“We found them!” Alois shouted.  
“We were looking everywhere for you two!” Catherine lifted them up in a great hug. “What happened? Pebbles came back all agitated.”  
“This one decided to ignore any reason and caused poor Pebbles distress. We were stranded out by the Western church.” Seteth seethed, jabbing a finger into Byleth’s arm.  
“If you weren’t such an ass--” Byleth heaved a sigh, “Look, it’s been a rough few days. Can we get back to the monastery and clean up? I’m exhausted.”  
“I’m sure there is much work for me to catch up on.” Seteth nodded, folding his arms.

“There is. By the way, Byleth, the Golden Deer went looking for you in the East, suspecting you were out there. We’ll send the message that you’ve been found. They’ve been worried sick about you.” Catherine added. “I’m just glad to see you both unharmed!”

\---

Byleth sank into the warm bath, exhaling. At last she was alone. She knew she’d have to continue the flying lessons eventually, but being away from Seteth was almost a relief. Almost.

There was still much to discuss, about the war, and the monastery. Since they had taken back Garreg Mach, they likely pushed those hordes of thieves out into the surrounding regions, which was why they were having trouble getting supplies into the market. She determined she would need to begin a patrol before they made any further moves towards the war effort.

She hoped Seteth would agree.  
_Damn him._

She wanted to forget the last few days so badly, yet the memories still lingered. As did the scent of citrus and the sea. She submerged herself for a moment, scrubbing her hair before surfacing to breathe.  _ Better. _

_ It didn’t matter. It was inconsequential. We were victims of circumstance. He’ll forget soon, too. _

She finished her bath, returning to her room to dress.   
  
\---

“Ah teach, did you see the ledgers I left for you in your room?” Claude asked. Seteth stopped mid-stride to listen in on the conversation. Claude and Byleth were in the tea garden, and Seteth loomed on the other side of the hedges.

Glancing around and realizing he was alone, he eased up to the hedges to listen closer.

“I did, but I haven’t had a chance to look at them. I will soon. There’s updates about the supply lines, right?”  
“Yeah.” Claude confirmed. “War council is in a few days, this information might just convince the Knights to make a move.”

Seteth scoffed.  _ Unlikely. We have other concerns at the moment. I must see this information and be prepared with a response. _

“Seteth is a tough egg to crack. Do you really think he’ll listen?” Byleth asked.  
“We can try. After you vanished with him there were… rumors. Are you alright?” Claude asked.

“Yeah, fine. It was just… exhausting dealing with him the whole time trying to get back. Talk about a long walk.” She groaned. “On top of that it was snowing and cold… just miserable.”

“Geez, that bad, huh?”  
“The worst.”  
Seteth clenched his fists, stifling a growl. _How dare she. I was more than patient with her those past days. She owes me her life!_ He huffed, his mind racing. _I know. I can sneak into her room and get to those ledgers now. She won’t be finished catching up with Claude for a while…_

Seteth made a beeline to Byleth’s room. Checking to make sure no one was watching, he picked the lock and crept in, spotting the ledgers on her desk.

He mulled over the reports, discovering nothing of note except some dissent within the Alliance. If the Alliance was dealing with infighting, they would be nowhere near prepared to handle the Empire. He scoffed. This in no way could justify their case.

Footsteps approaching startled him. His heart leapt into his throat as he put the ledger back and looked around, desperate for an escape. The door handle jiggled. He held his breath as he leapt into Byleth’s closet, closing the door just in time to hear her enter.

He let out a silent breath, careful not to be too loud as he sank behind her clothes, watching her from a hole in the wood.  _ Idiot. I’m hiding in her closet, I can’t even face her? Either way she would be furious that I was snooping around in her room. Damn it. _

Byleth took a moment to skim over the ledgers and groaned. “Ugh, I don’t have the energy for this right now. Damn it Claude, why did you have to bring  _ him  _ up?” She plodded across the room and threw herself on her bed, screaming into the pillow. “Damn you Seteth!”

At the sound of his name, his heart quickened. A bead of sweat trickled down his brow.

\---

Byleth heaved a sigh and pulled the pillow from her face. “This is stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.” She tensed. “I need a break.” She wandered over to lock her bedroom door before beginning to disrobe.

“Of course he had to bring up Seteth. Asking what we did… How the hell am I supposed to answer that? We fucked! It was ecstasy!” She paced the room. “I loved it, it was the best sex of my life and now I can’t stop thinking about it!”

She was riled up now, and laid back on her bed. “It’s not happening again. I swear it’s not happening again. Just one more time for me to blow off some steam and then I can forget about it.” She muttered, coaxing herself along. Her hands wandered her curves, trying to imitate Seteth’s movements from what she could remember. She sighed as she drew her fingers around her breasts, pulling at her nipples, trailing her palm down her front before dipping her hand between her legs…

\---

Seteth’s chest swelled with confidence as he beheld the sight of Byleth from his hiding spot.  _ She loved it. She loved it. She loved it. _

He watched as she laid back on her bed and began to touch herself. A lump caught in his throat as his cock swelled. He palmed it from the outside of his pants, his gaze unbroken from the sight through the hole. Byleth’s fingers dipped into her sex with a very audible wet sound.

_She didn’t even need to warm up! She was worked up after just thinking about it!_ His thoughts raced and soon became jumbled, His breath hitched. As quietly as he could, his deft fingers fumbled to free his cock as he stared through the hole at the sight.  
“I hate you so much Seteth.” She moaned, working a second finger into her entrance. “Fuck, I _hate_ you.”

He mouthed the words, breathless, “I hate you, too, Byleth.” He shuddered, stroking his cock as he tried to match the rhythm of her fingers. “Goddess, I hate you so fucking much.”

Byleth sighed, “Seteth, oh, Seteth…” Her movement quickened as her other hand rose to knead her breast. He pumped his cock in time to her, his mouth agape as his breaths shook. His eyes wide, unblinking, focused on her every move. Drool dribbled down the side of his chin, and he cared not to wipe it away, obsessed with the sight. He kneaded his balls as the tightened up.

“Fuck,” her legs twitched as she moaned, her breathing heavy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck--”  
His hand rushed from his balls to his mouth as he bit back a moan against his fist, fervently jerking his cock as he edged waiting to match his release with hers.

“Ah, fuck you Seteth. Fuck you, Cichol.” Her voice was strained as she shook through an orgasm, the sounds of her fingers dipping into her core crescendoing until a sudden halt.

At the sound of his name he exploded, white hot jets of cum hitting the back of the door as he stifled his gasps against his fist. His eyes fluttered, but still stared through the hole in the door at her as she caught her breath and sighed.

A knock startled him. Byleth sat up, “Who is it?”  
“Hey Byleth, it’s Leonie. Did you want to train and get dinner?” A muffled voice called.  
“Sounds great! Give me a sect to get dressed and I’ll be out!” She replied in a singsong tone.

Seteth wished she would talk to him so sweetly, jealousy swelling inside him. He watched her as she dressed, then hurried out to meet her comrade. As the door closed behind her and locked, he exhaled a heavy sigh.

He tucked himself back into his trousers, listened and waited a beat before emerging from her closet. He took one last glance over the ledgers, and decided it wasn’t worth it to read into them. He left quickly and quietly, disappearing across the monastery grounds.


	9. Confessional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth tries to put the past behind her and seeks advice through the confessional.  
> Seteth has a confrontation in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU KNOW I HAD TO PUT A CONFESSIONAL SCENE IN THIS
> 
> I'm literally linking all of these random scenes I've envisioned of them fucking with a horribly misconstrued plot so please enjoy
> 
> also I would love to here your thoughts so far.  
> Were there any parts that made you giggle? What would you like to see? pls tell me I'm literally writing this as I gooooooooo
> 
> Also Claude is in this chapter and he is doing his thing B) bein cool, knowing whats up, Claude stuff I love him so much

“Seteth.” Byleth greeted curtly as she knocked on his open office door.  
Seteth’s attention shot to her, nearly jumping out of his seat. Instead, he coughed through the newly formed lump in his throat, “Ah Byleth. What brings you here?” It had been a few days since they returned, and this was the first time they spoke since.  
“I wanted to apologize for upsetting Pebbles. I got carried away. The truth is, I really enjoyed flying. I want our lessons to continue.” Byleth was stoic, but determined.

Seteth furrowed his brow, folding his hands together. “I see. Well then I forgive you.”  
“Really?”  
“Forgiveness is part of the church. Perhaps you should visit the confessional if you continue to have concerns.” He replied.  
“So what about flying lessons? Can we continue?”  
“I suppose.”  
“Can I get my own wyvern yet?”  
His expression darkened. “Not quite yet. But we can continue with another lesson… after the war council meeting next week. I still have much to catch up on since our unfortunate absence.” He looked down at the reports before him.

“I understand.” Byleth nodded. She shifted on her feet, not ready to leave yet. “Seteth.” She asked for his attention once more. He looked to her, expectant. “Um, well… did you take a break today?”  
“Ah, I guess it is rather late in the day.”

“I’ll bring you some tea.”  _ It doesn’t mean anything.  _ She reassured herself as she brisked down the hall.

\---

_ She’s so thoughtful.  _ Seteth thought as he regarded the tea tray Byleth left for him at the end of his desk.  _ She’s not doing this because she likes me, it’s because she wants something. _ He reminded himself.

He picked up a tea sandwich from the tray which promptly fell apart.  _ She must have made them herself. At least she’s trying. _ He sighed, scooping up what he could of the sandwich and eating it. As he picked up the kettle to pour himself some tea, he spotted a small bag tucked behind the tea cozy.

He picked it up and opened it to find a few pieces of jerky. A soft smile crept across his face as he pondered over the gift.

The night grew late as Seteth sat undisturbed in the confessional. It seemed as if people forgot it was even there. As the cathedral cleared out and the confessional hours came to a close, he readied to leave, glad for the silent hours of meditation and solitude he had at the very least.

Until someone entered the other side, startling him. “It is late, child. Confessional hours are almost over. Is everything alright?” He asked.

“Forgive me, I was not watching the hour. I am working hard to do better by ways of the church, your holiness.” Came a muffled reply.

Seteth withheld a sigh, “Please, continue.”  
“I have struggled this past week with difficult times, your holiness. I fret that memories and sins will not be forgotten by those who… committed them with me… Even after I have asked forgiveness for the initial… incident, I have struggled with addressing the events thereafter.”  
Seteth rested his chin in his fist along the window ledge, his brows knitting together. “Can you elaborate, child?”  
“I-I am afraid to, your holiness. I was sworn to secrecy.”  
“Child, everything in the confessional is sworn to secrecy. When you are here you speak to the saints and the goddess herself, and only them.”

There was a pause.

“You see, I committed unforgivable lustful acts. I am not sure I can even forgive myself.” The voice stammered.

“Ah, I see. You feel you are forbidden about speaking of this, at all.”

“Yes, your holiness. But I keep thinking about it. I want to move on. I know the person in question doesn’t particularly care for me. I don’t particularly care for him, still I have some feelings I am unsure of. They linger and it has caused me much worry these past few days.”

“Child, I share that sentiment. I have found myself in a similar situation before…” He sighed, pressing his hand against the covered window between them. “It is a struggle, and I am unsure even now how to go about it. I wonder, do these conversations need to be had? But the other person seems unphased in their interactions with me. She was almost amicable, even. Despite our common animosity toward one another.”

“I am sorry, your holiness. What would the saints say to do?”

_I just told you I don’t know._ He thought to himself. “The saints… would consider reflecting that same behavior. Perhaps the conversation will occur naturally. Perhaps--”  
“Perhaps…” The voice seemed to mull over the word. There was a long silence. Then a very faint whisper, a question: “Seteth? Is that you?”  
His face turned bright red, his heart raced. Who was on the other side of the confessional. He panicked.  
“N-no. I am the voice of the saints… the goddess.”  
“Then close your eyes.”

“I beg your pardon?”  
“Close your eyes, and do not open them until… until you hear my footsteps walking away.”  
“If that is what you wish, my child.” His thoughts whirled in his head. The confessional door on the other side opened. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The confessional door on his side opened, and someone joined him in the cramped space. A breath blew out the candle next to him, the smoke of the extinguished wick filling his nostrils. A small hint of jasmine mixed with it, his heart pounding.

“Keep your eyes closed, I do not trust this darkness.” A whisper came. He certainly knew that voice, but denial roared within him to the beat of his heart.

Something pulled at his trousers, and he whimpered as they grasped his length, pulling it from his pants.  
“F-fuck.” He breathed. “Y-you can’t--this is blasphemy!”

Hot breath against his cock warmed his blood as nimble fingers stroked him until he was hard. The voice shushed him. He covered his eyes with his arm as lips closed over the tip of his cock and worked their way down his shaft. The feel of a soft, wet, warm mouth over him was too much to bear, and he was caught completely off-guard. He bit back a moan as the mouth ran his length repeatedly, audible slurps and sucking wringing whimpers from his throat.

“T-this is hardly appropriate.” His voice cracked. A hand cupped his balls and massaged them in a familiar rhythm. He shuddered. “I know it’s you… you can’t do this…”  
The mouth popped off of his cock, hot breath breathing a “shh” over him before continuing their work.

He tensed, feeling out blindly until his fingers brushed against silky hair, and wove into it. He rested his hand over the bobbing head as he moaned, spreading his legs further has his balls were fondled.

“I’m going--ah, please!” He rasped, pushing the head down and feeling the mouth reach his base. They coughed and choked over him as he came with a loud groan. His hand lifted from the head, which sprang back. The sound of the confessional door opening and closing pulled him from his bliss as he heard quick footsteps running away.  
He had to go after them.  
No, _her_.  
He was certain it was her.

He shoved his cock back into his pants and burst from the confessional into the empty cathedral. He barrelled full speed across the bridge, seeing a figure dart ahead of him in the dark. They turned to the right, running towards the classrooms and training grounds. He rushed after them, gaining on their tail.

\---

Byleth was incredulous that Seteth was the one in the confessional. Furious, she decided to mess with him the best way she knew how. It backfired terribly, as the bitter taste of cum lingered in her mouth and she was now running to find someplace to hide, certain she was being followed.

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid. You just had to suck him off. You could have done literally anything else but your mind went straight to that. _ She cursed herself, ducking behind the wall next the the old Black Eagles’ classroom, pressing her back against the bulletin board. Grateful she had the cover of shadow, she listened as footsteps ran past, fading in the distance.

She exhaled, catching her breath and throwing her head back in relief, laughing silently at the ceiling.

A hand slammed into the bulletin board next to her. “Ah, Byleth. What are you doing out so late?”

Byleth looked down to meet Seteth’s piercing gaze. “Seteth! You gave me a fright!” She gasped, a lump forming in her throat. She stammered, “I was just on a stroll back from the training grounds and I decided to detour for a midnight snack.” She inched to the side, hoping to slide out her only opening.  
“Taking the scenic route, I presume?” He growled, slamming his other hand on the opposite side of her. “I heard something terrible happened in the confessional this evening.”  
“Oh? Oh no, is everything alright?” Byleth gasped.

He used her own words against her, “It seems someone committed an unforgivable lustful act.”

Her heart sank as she continued to feign ignorance. “That sounds terrible. Surely things are okay now?”  
“Why yes, I believe I might have found the culprit.” Seteth smirked.

“Ah, well if you do, I would hope that the church would be merciful. Forgiveness is the way of the goddess and all…” She chuckled nervously.

“Yes, unfortunately my investigation has led to a dead end, but there is one way that I can be certain…”  
“Oh?” She squeaked.

He leaned in, kissing her. His tongue parted her lips.

\---

He tasted that bitter taste on her lips, in her mouth. She whimpered as he pulled back with a breath.  
“Caught you.”  
“Fuck.”

“Did you honestly think you could get away with defiling the confessional? And with _me_?” He hissed, inching closer.  
“I realized it was you.”  
“And you should have just left. Not… well… what you did!” He snarled.

“Hey, I was expecting to be able to confess freely. When I figured out it was you I was furious. Wouldn’t you be?”  
“I am.” He said through clenched teeth. “I will not be teaching you flying lessons anymore, Byleth. This is the final word!”

She scoffed in his face, “You’re going to have to after tomorrow’s war council meeting.”  
“We’ll see about that. You have already given plenty of reasons for the Knights to not trust the Alliance. I have half a mind to expel you all from the monastery. Your base of operations can be in that filthy cave for all I care!”

“You’re a hindrance to your own cause, you self-righteous fool!”

“So you think you can just… literally fuck with me as if that will help your case?”

“I don’t know… I just thought it’d be funny! You take everything so seriously, lighten up!”  
“You couldn’t even lighten up back at the inn. That was an opportunity for us to not think about the war and try to work things out and instead you just bickered with me as I tried to take care of you!”  
“As if you cared!” She shouted.  
“I did care!” He yelled.

She fell silent for a moment, glaring at him. “Well that’s all in the past. What happened at the inn should have stayed at the inn.” She shoved him backward, storming off. “See you at the war council, asshole!”

Seteth’s heart ached, his breathing heavy. His fists clenched at his sides.

“Well, well, well.” A voice crooned from behind him. “Such passion, what a display.” A soft chuckle followed as Claude emerged from behind a pillar. “I never expected that, but I figured  _ something  _ went on between you two when you disappeared.”

“What’s a schemer like you doing stalking around at this hour?” Seteth snarled. “Can’t you mind your own business?”  
“The professor _is_ my business, _old man_.” He grinned. “An excellent tactician, and an asset for the Golden Deer. We need her as much as you do. We rely on her, but now you’re about to mess that up.”  
“Mess what up?”  
“Teach is a very strong leader, the kind of leader the future of Fodlan needs. You really think the Empire, Kingdom, and Alliance are going to survive this war? No. One power has to come out on top. That one person was decided long ago. That’s teach.”

A chill shot down Seteth’s spine. “I knew you were up to no good. The Golden Deer just want to take Garreg Mach for themselves.”  
“Didn’t you hear a word I just said? We need to be working together, but the bridge between us, our dear professor, is falling apart. And it looks like it's your fault. I imagine you two will bicker for a while longer, but if it keeps up, it’s going to tear our entire war effort apart.”

“And council is tomorrow.”  
“You need to cool down. Sure teach has that mischievous spark, all Golden Deer do. Can you try to tolerate it? Consider being a little more sympathetic to our goals at the council tomorrow, and you might see a change in ol’ teach. It would be advantageous for both of us.”  
Seteth crossed his arms, “You just want me to go along with whatever half-baked plan you have.”  
“True, but time is ticking. The Kingdom is being torn apart and there’s hardly anyone left to join us or take our side. It’s only going to put more strain on the professor, our troops, and our supplies.”  
“I see.”

“Just weigh your options a little more carefully. It will most certainly affect… whatever you have going on with teach.” Clade smirked. “I’d say you’re pretty lucky.” He slinked back into the shadows without another word.  
Seteth seethed, considering his words.


	10. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth needs a wyvern of her own, and Seteth has a plan to get one. When she gets impatient, things go awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lot longer than I anticipated, but soooo worth it. I wanted to indulge Bee's request for a roll in the hay in the stables, so I hope this will suffice. Thank you so much for the suggestion!!!

“You see,” Byleth continued as she addressed the war council, “after we pushed the bandits from Garreg Mach, they raided the surrounding provinces, affecting supply lines for all factions. This has created tension not only in the Kingdom, but in the Alliance as well.”  
Catherine, Claude, Seteth, and a few other commanders were present. “We are doing well training our forces for mobility, but we should calculate our strikes before revealing ourselves against the Empire.”

Seteth nodded in agreement, a surprise to her. “Let us address the unrest in the Alliance, first. Claude, I suggest having the Golden Deer deal with Count Gloucester. Lorenz may have some sway and his insight to the territory may be useful. Seteth,” she turned to regard the advisor, “I suggest the Knights address the bandits with any riding or flying trainees. This will help our forces prepare for facing the Empire, since their calvary and flying forces outweigh us heavily. It’s our first step forward, but we must move now or lose precious time and allies.”

“You will not accompany the Golden Deer to Gloucester territory?” Seteth raised his eyebrows.  
“I suggested Teach join the knights with the bandits, focusing on scoping out the terrain and the Empire’s reach into our immediate vicinity.” Clade said.  
“I must object, the Knights can handle this easily.” Seteth frowned.  
“The Golden Deer are more than capable.” Clade smirked, “With your concern over supply shortages, I thought you would welcome the additional help.” Seteth was silent, Byleth observing an unspoken conversation between him and Claude, a warped tension befalling them.  
Seteth relented, “Very well.”

“We should move out, send the Knights tomorrow for an initial scout in the surrounding territories. The Golden Deer will dispatch to Gloucester immediately.” Claude adjourned the meeting.

Byleth turned and whispered to Claude, eyeing Seteth as he left the war room. “What was that about? He’s actually wanting to do something now?”  
“The old man and I had a little heart-to-heart yesterday. I think he’ll be more open to our suggestions from now on.” He smiled.  
Byleth patted him on the back, “Well done.”

“Thanks, teach. We’ll be back in a few days. Wish me luck!”  
“You don’t need it, Claude.” She chuckled. “I’ll see you soon.”

Seteth caught Byleth in the hallway after the meeting. “I suppose we should have our next lesson now.” His expression stoic, but a bite in his words.

“I see you’re finally coming around, then. Let;s go.” She puffed out her chest, leading the way to the stables.

“I will have you handle the reins if you think you will not get carried away.” Seteth sighed, climbing into Pebbles’ saddle. He offered his hand like before, but Byleth managed to climb up on her own, to his surprise. He muttered a “well done” under his breath.

Byleth took the reins, and without a word directed Pebbles from the stable and into the sky. She wanted to prove to Seteth she was ready for her own wyvern, and decided to test Pebbles’ agility. Urging the beast to go faster, she pulled the reins, Pebbles swerving sharply to the right.

There was a gasp behind her as Seteth’s hands grasped her waist for security. She glared at him over her shoulder, and he loosened his grip, glancing away.

“Do be careful not to strain Pebbles.” He reminded her.  
“I’ve got this, okay?” Byleth snapped.

They flew out toward the south, scouting for signs of enemy encampments that were in too close proximity.

“Climb in altitude, now.” Seteth hissed in her ear. “Above those clouds.” Byleth did as directed, turning to him to ask why. “Look down there.” He pointed.  
A wyvern battalion in the Imperial colors practiced exercises along the treeline. She cursed, steering Pebbles back toward the monastery.

She took the wyvern for a loop around Garreg Mach, then back to the stables. Upon landing, she looked back at him, “You can let go now.”  
Seteth pulled back his hands, forgetting where they had been. He blushed.

“Good enough for you?” She demanded, sliding down from the saddle.  
“Yes, your next training will be on your own wyvern. We’ll just have to… procure one.”

“What about stealing one from that battalion?”  
“That was my initial thought, but it could prove challenging.”  
“Why don’t we fly there at night, slip into their camp and grab one?”

“That could work, but I might have a better idea.” Byleth cocked an eyebrow. “I could disguise myself as an animal medic from the Empire sent to aid them and infiltrate their ranks. Doing so, I might have a chance to get more than just one wyvern.”  
“And possible information.” Byleth added. “What about me?”

“You should stay back, I could handle this on my own.”

She scoffed. “So when will you leave?”  
“I will head there tomorrow morning. It should be easy enough that I’ll be back in two days.”

She sighed, “Well then, I guess you should prepare.”   
  


\---

Seteth dressed in armor, with a medic tabard draped over his chest. He took a wagon out to a southern village, and from there joined an imperial supply convoy to head west toward the imperial battalion encampment.

By noon, he had reached his destination, signed off that he was an animal medic, and inspected the wyverns that were now under his care. Twelve of them resided in a permanent stable structure, where the battalion had quartered themselves in a large inn on the outskirts of a milling town. To the east of the town was a larger imperial operation, but he did not yet have the opportunity to investigate what it was.

He wanted to leave as quickly as he could. The friendly captains and soldiers had other plans. The supply convoy he joined also carried new recruits, and a welcome party was planned. Seteth, as a new face, was obliged to join out of fear of rousing suspicion if he refused.

At least he learned that the Empire was very active with their supply convoys, the massive amount of troops demanding a consistent flow and convoys moving every two days on their routes. Far more active than any route he had known. He worried.  _ With that sort of power and sway, who wouldn’t want to join them? _

He scouted around the inn and stables, discovering the wyverns had a training schedule and free roam time near the eastern forest in the early mornings.

_ It can work. I can manage. _

He partook little of the party that night, sobriety his biggest ally in this plan. Instead, he opted to “turn in early” as he made his way to the eastern side of the village.

Ballistas. Nets. Countermeasures for flyers. Seteth’s heart sank.  _ They’re prepared for everything. _

He struggled to devise a plan, opting to try and free one of the wyverns that night and see if it returned to the encampment within the following day.  
_This may take more than a few days…_

\---

Two days passed. The Golden Deer were dealing with complications in Gloucester which was to be expected. Seteth was supposed to have been back with wyverns. Byleth paced along the stables, her brows knitted together.

_ Where is he? _

Her stomach churned. A thousand what-ifs ran through her mind.

_ If he isn’t back by tonight, then I’ll go find him.  _ She looked over to see Pebbles happily munching on a bullhead fish.  _ We’ll get him, Pebbles. _

The full moon bathed the world in silver light as Byleth flew on Pebbles over the forests. She scanned the landscape, looking for the wyvern encampment, or any sign of Seteth. Hours passed, the trees becoming a blur, villages beginning to look the same. Pebbles was exhausted, and she was ready to turn back.

Something shot past her, drawing her attention below. She squinted her eyes, spotting a glint in the shadows along the treeline. A second shot fired, a bolt grazing Pebbles’ leg. The wyvern cried out, the surprise attack sending them spiraling into the forest below. The canopy broke their fall, and Pebbles managed to make a last minute landing before bucking Byleth off in her agitation.

The beast screeched, then leapt into the treetops, disappearing into the forest. Byleth groaned, shaken from the rough landing. She glanced around, surrounded by thick brambles on all sides, thorns as long as her fingers. Distant voices shouted. She drew her steel sword, attempting to cut through the thick briars. In her hurry, the thorns tore into her arm.

A shadow passed overhead, then three more. Four wyvern riders descended over her, landing amidst the treetops.

“No sign of the wyvern.” One warned. “But there’s a rider here.”  
“No doubt a scout.”  
“Kingdom?”  
“Probably. Let’s take them in for questioning.”  
Lanterns appeared around her in the woods, just beyond the brambles. “Don’t move, we have arrows on you.” The lantern light reflected off of crossbow bolts and knocked arrows. She froze.

A familiar voice rang behind them, “Any sign of the wyvern?” Followed by a negative reply.

_ Seteth. _

\---

Seteth knew he was taking longer than expected, but to find Byleth was the one shot down that evening was a shock. He hoped she would have at least waited a day and brought the knights with her.

The soldiers cut through the brambles ahead. Byleth dropped her sword and raised her arms.

Seteth rushed to her as soldiers cuffed her, eyeing the scrape on her arm from the thorns. He pulled a rag and a bandage from his satchel and began to tend to her wound as the soldiers interrogated her.  
“Who are you?” She glared at them, silent.  
“Are you an enemy of the Empire?”

“I know her.” A voice gasped. “She worked for the officer’s academy.”  
“Then she’s probably a spy. No Imperial marks or garb… Take her prisoner.”  
Seteth finished tending to her wounds, looking up to meet her eyes with a silent question: _Why are you here?_

She hung her head as the soldier shoved her forward, leading her through the woods. He fell back behind, following them as he took a quick glance, realizing if Pebbles wasn’t here, then she had probably escaped and returned to the monastery.

\---

Byleth was tied to a post in a tent, where she would be interrogated further the following day. Seeing Seteth, she knew better than to say anything that could possibly jeopardize them both. If he could get out and find the Knights, then she wouldn’t have to worry. She exhaled, cursing herself for being so careless.

_ At least Pebbles is probably safe. _

“Some of those thorns may have been poisonous, I must see to it that the prisoner has those bandages changed regularly, to check for infection.” A familiar voice came from beyond the opening in the tent.  
“You’re an animal medic.” The guard argued, “Can you even treat people?”  
“Of course I can. I am a general medic, too. Not a healer, but do you see any of them awake at this hour?”  
“Fair enough.”

“Then tell the commander I will be in charge of this one’s care for now.”

“Alright.”

The tent flap opened and Seteth entered, carrying a bowl of water and his satchel. He knelt down next to Byleth, looking her over.

“What in Fodlan are you thinking?” He hissed. “Are you mad? You couldn’t wait another day and bring the Knights?”

“I figured it would be better to scout it out, if something had gone wrong, I wanted us to be prepared.”  
“Thank goodness they didn’t get Pebbles, but now I have to worry about you! Of all the stupid things you have done, this is the stupidest yet!” He whispered, fumbling with her bandages. The bleeding had stopped.  
He pulled something from his satchel, and dipped a rag into the bowl of water before dabbing at her wound. “They will come to interrogate you tomorrow, if we can get out before then we will not have to worry.”

He fumbled with his things, and then a sharp sting made her wince. “Ah, that hurts.”  
“Ointment to stop infection.” He replied, beginning to rebandage her wound. “You’re not hurt anywhere else?” He met her gaze, concern in his gleaming eyes.

“No.” She looked away, trying to hide her reddening cheeks.  
“Getting out of here is going to be difficult. The wyverns are trained to return. They have ballistas and counterflyer weapons.” He warned. “The whole operation here is dangerous.”  
“So you cut my bonds, I sneak out, sabotage the ballistas, you steal a couple of wyverns and we get the hell back to the monastery.” Byleth shrugged.

“It’s not as easy as you think. We will be lucky to get out of here alive.”

“And you have a better plan?”  
Electricity shot between their eyes as they glared at one another. “I’ve been here longer than you and have a better scope of things. Don’t do anything stupid and follow my lead when the time comes.” He gathered his things and stood up, looking down at her. “I know you’re not very comfortable in that position, but do try to rest until tomorrow. I will bring you breakfast.”

She huffed as he left.

\---

The battalion was finishing their morning exercises with the wyverns when Seteth made his way to the tent. He had only a few minutes before the next guard rotation would come, along with the interrogating officers.

The guard had left his post outside the tent early due to a well-forged letter from a commanding officer. Seteth had taken extra care his first day there to infiltrate the higher ranks for information, as well as cover his tracks quickly.

He slipped into the tent, seeing Byleth right where he had left her, tied to the post. “Are you alright?” He whispered, cutting her bonds.

“Fine, I’m fine. The guard gave me some water before he left moments ago. I managed to sleep some, but I’m stiff as hell.” She grunted, wringing her wrists from the ropes. “Let’s go.”  
“I need you to follow me.” He pulled up the rear side of the tent, “Come on.” Voices behind them spurred them to move quickly.  
She followed him out the back and towards the stables. Seconds later, surprised voices and shouting echoed around the area. Seteth muttered a swear under his breath as he grabbed Byleth’s hand and raced into the stable complex. The stone building was empty, but footsteps sounded behind them as a search began and the alarm was raised.

“In here.” He said, pulling her down a narrow corridor. Seteth flung open narrow door to an equipment closet. The walls were only the width of his shoulders apart, with shovels and pitchforks leaning against the rear wall. He squeezed in, pulling Byleth in with her before closing the door. “It’s too small for them to think anyone would hide in here.”

\---

Byleth wrinkled her nose. She couldn’t see him in the dark of the tiny closet, but she could smell him. Even with the stench of the stables, his citrus and sea smell was overwhelming.

It didn’t help that the room was so narrow she was pressed against his chest. Both of them were silent as the listened to the scramble outside.  
“It may be a while.” He whispered. She was so close to him, that she could hear his heart thunder in his chest. His breathing slowed, but his pulse still drummed.

\---

He could barely see her, looking down at her flush against him in the narrow room.  _ There wasn’t anywhere more spacious we could hide? _ He huffed. The top of her head was right under his chin, and as he adjusted to lean back against the wall, he unintentionally brushed the side of his face against her ear.

Her scent was potent as ever, despite their current setting. “I’m sorry.” He muttered. “This isn’t the most comfortable option.”  
A hand slid up his chest, small fingers pressing against his lips to silence him. Her face focused at the door, listening. His cheeks burned.

The commotion seemed to pass, but they remained wary. “We should wait a while longer.” Byleth warned.  
“I agree.” He nodded, grasping her hand to pull it from his lips. “Why did you come?”

“I told you I was scouting it out.”  
“In the middle of the night, out in the open, not knowing the dangers? Not having any sort of backup?”

She was silent.  
“If you run into war with these stupid ideas, we’re all going to end up dead.”  
“It was your idea to come out here alone. I bet if we had the Knights and Golden Deer and just engaged them like I had been suggesting we’d already have more wyverns and this wouldn’t be an issue.”

“It was your insistence on getting your own wyvern that led us here in the first place. Pebbles could have been killed from that shot. I can only hope she is okay.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. She’s the fastest wyvern I’ve ever seen. She had a good rider.”  
“You’re not a good rider, you couldn’t even keep her safe!”  
“I was talking about you, idiot.”

“Oh.” Seteth felt his cheeks burn. “We still need to get out of this predicament. They have ballistas in the east. The wyverns will be returning from their exercises any minute now. When they return, we can get one, run into the cover of the forest, then head west before flying north back to Garreg Mach, avoiding the ballista range.”  
“Sounds like a plan.”  
They waited in silence. Seteth caught his breath growing heavy against her. Each second felt like an eternity, his heart pounding.

“Seteth, are you alright?”  
“O-of course. Why?”  
“Your heartbeat…”  
“I’m just nervous. If we’re caught--”  
“It will be okay. As far as half-baked plans, I have faith in yours.”

\---

It was a lie. But confidence would help their chances and she needed Seteth to keep his calm and a level head if they were to pull this off.

Of course, being crammed together in a tiny space wasn’t helping her focus, either. She ignored her body’s calls, reminding herself of how much she hated him and the situation they were in.

_ It’s totally his fault. He should have had a backup plan. Or listened to my idea weeks ago about deploying and taking the region by force. _

The sounds of the wyverns returning to their stalls was a welcome chorus. The battalion was notified of the escaped prisoner, and three riders were dispatched to circle the area. The rest of the soldiers went to search on foot, leaving their steeds to recuperate from their morning excursion.

Seteth waited several moments before deciding, “Let’s go.” He opened the door, sliding out before her and glancing around. “Stay close to me.”

He led her into the main stable.

“Which ones should we take?”  
“Why not all of them?”  
“All of them?”  
“Even if we don’t take them all to Garreg Mach, we can loose one or two during our escape to throw them off our trail.” He explained. “So gather four, and I’ll get the rest.”  
Seteth examined all of them hastily, determining the priority mounts they would try to keep with them. “Quickly, out the rear entrance and into the forest.” He led the way, the wyverns and Byleth following behind along a rope.

They dashed into the forest, then turned west. They made a good distance, the inn and stable disappearing beyond the trees. Byleth spotted a wyvern rider over the canopy, warning Seteth.

They froze, ducking in the shadows along a tree trunk, grateful for the wyvern’s scales being so close to the color of the shade. A larger commotion broke out in the distance. Byleth and Seteth shared a glance, knowing the cause.

As the rider overhead passed on, they continued west. Byleth worked to tie a longer rope between the wyverns as they prepared to take flight.  
“Don’t get cocky yet,” Seteth warned, halting her from tying two of the wyverns to the rope. We should let those two roam now, sending them south.

“Good plan.”

Seteth slapped their flanks, sending them running south. The two of them led the remaining seven wyverns a short distance further, before taking their preferred mounts. Seteth took hold of the rope that led the other wyverns. The beasts took into a formation, already being well-trained. Byleth’s wyvern joined his side.

“Let’s go.” He commanded, urging his beast forward, the others following. They hurtled through the trees to a clearing and leapt into the sky, soaring freely, gaining altitude so they could fly under the cover of the low rolling clouds.

After an hour of flying, Byleth sighed in relief. Seteth led them in a descent below the clouds. He glanced around to get his bearings, then veered to the right, guiding them back to the monastery.

Byleth was impressed he managed it so well.

\---

“Congratulations on bringing back those wyverns, you two. Well done.” Claude beamed, hearing the good news upon his return a few days later. “Sorry things got held up in Gloucester.”  
“It was to be expected. I’m glad they went well otherwise.” Seteth nodded, folding his arms behind his back. “The wyverns are getting accustomed to their new home and should be ready for outings in a few weeks.”  
“I’ve already found mine, he’s a bit of an angry boy to everyone else, but he certainly likes me.” She was referring to the wyvern she had fled upon. “His name is Lightning.”

“Suitable. I’m sure he’ll be able to keep up with Pebbles’ speed in time.” Seteth nodded.

“Good to hear. Let’s move forward with clearing out those bandits.” Claude said. “I’m going to go hit the sauna.” He dismissed himself.

Byleth joined Seteth on his walk back to his office. “You still haven’t mentioned to anyone what happened back there.”  
Seteth chuckled. “There is no need to. I wouldn’t want anyone to question your leadership.” He looked to her from the corner of his eye, “I also wouldn’t want to wound your precious pride.”  
“You ass.”

“I do have more work to attend to after my absence.”  
“You like four-spice blend, right?” Byleth asked.

“You remembered my favorite.”  
“If it's an incentive for you to take a break from your work, then I’ll do it. You seem to leave other teas to sit cold while you work.” She sighed.

A small smile pulled at his lips. “I will see you for tea, then.”

\---

Byleth swept out Lightning’s stable while the wyverns were out during their roaming period. She pulled the bales of fresh hay out, spreading it in the stall. Clouds began to roll in, a drizzle accompanying them. The wyverns would be fine out a few hours more, so Byleth was content to work in the stables, enjoying the solitude.

“Care to explain to me why I stumbled across Claude making poisons in the kitchen?” Seteth startled her, looming in the stable doorway.  
“Excuse me?”  
“He said you were fine with it. Keep him in check.”

“I absolutely am not! Do you automatically blame me for everything that you don’t like?”  
“The Deer are under your charge, even if they are grown now, they still require guidance I would appreciate it if you had some consideration for the rules.”  
“You and your obsession with rules! Claude will still get an earful from me, but don’t expect me to act like a nanny to them. They are capable warriors and everything they are doing is for the war effort. I’m sure Claude had a good reason for working in the kitchen and was extra careful.”  
“Should anyone end up poisoned at dinner, I will be holding you responsible. Keep them in check, Professor. I won’t tell you again.” He snarled, raising his voice.

“Oh and what are you gonna do about it? We’re not going anywhere and you’d better get used to it. The monastery is our base of operations, we’re going to have to work with what we’ve got!” She countered.

“You and your students are constantly trying my patience, Professor!”

“I’m not their Professor anymore!” She bellowed.

“I was right to doubt you when you arrived here. You have obviously failed them.”  
“How dare you!” She hissed. “The monastery would still be in ruins if it wasn’t for me.”

“It’ll be in ruins if you keep shrugging off your leadership and responsibilities.” Seteth spat.

“And where were you these past five years?” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “Letting it crumble? Letting everything fall apart?”

His face warped into a furious snarl, glaring down his nose at her.

Her voice softened with a taunt, “What’s the matter, Seteth? Have I struck a nerve?”

\---

Thunder rumbled. Lightning flashed across the sky. The drizzle turned to rain. Seteth clenched and unclenched his fists at his side, his blood boiling. He turned, stepping back out in the deluge.

“You know nothing of those years.” He spat. “How desperately I tried to keep everything together…”

“And you call me a failure.” She scoffed.  
Lightning flashed again. Seteth whirled around, charging at her, slamming her into the stable wall.

“I’ve had enough of you!” He roared.  
She threw her elbow into his cheek, knocking him aside, then shoved him into the swinging stable door. He faltered, trying to keep his balance, before swiping a fist at her.

She leapt back, “I’m sick of you. You and your rules, your expectations!” She kicked at him, hitting his shin. He absorbed the blow, clawing at her, scratching her side.

“Your recklessness would have us all killed by now!” He shouted, tackling her into a pile of hay. His head bumped her chin, forcing her to bite into her lip. The metallic tang of blood hit her tongue. She spit it out with a swear.

She beat her fists into his shoulders, throwing her knees into his stomach. He grunted and recoiled as she leapt back to her feet. He cursed, finding his ground once more.

The rain roared around them, accompanied by the drum of thunder. Lightning cracked across the sky.  
“You are a wretched blight on this place.” Seteth snarled.  
“I hate you. I hate you so fucking much, I can’t stand you!” She screamed.

A flicker of lighting had him barrelling into her once more, pinning her against the back wall of the stable for a second time. He thrust his hands against hers, holding them in place with his weight as he leaned against her.  
“Say it again.” He growled, his eyes meeting hers with an electric fury.

Blood dripped down her chin. “I hate you.”

He pressed a kiss into her lips, uncaring of the blood that now mixed with their mingling tongues. Her arms still struggled and strained against his weight, to no avail.

He broke to breathe, a small chuckle escaping him as he glared at her. “You’re disgusting.”  
“Fuck you.” She hissed, throwing her weight into a push that had her grappling with him. She threw her weight again, taking him down into a pile of hay. She managed to straddle him, discovering his erection beneath her. “You’re disgusting.” She hissed, drawing her fist back for a strike.

He rolled under her, pushing her into the hay. He clawed at her, tearing her coat from her shoulders. She howled in frustration, leaping at him, her hands yanking his sleeve, pulling his robes until his buttons popped free from their place.

He snarled, leaping on top of her and pinning her to the ground from behind, his hard cock rubbing against her plush ass. He groaned at the feeling as she writhed under him.

“Unhand me!” She screamed. “I’ll make you pay for this!”

He leaned into her ear, “I waited five years here, praying for a miracle, trying to protect Flayn and do what I could to save the monastery. Five years for a miracle!”

She kicked out, rolling under him, freeing from his grip. He was quick to pin her again, his size and weight bearing down on her as he straddled her, his erection very apparent as he bulged over her navel.

He leaned down, feeling her heavy breath against him as he whispered into her ear, “And then you came back. Everyone thought you were dead. That was my miracle.” He leaned back on his haunches, releasing her arms.

She propped herself up on her elbows, narrowing her eyes as she regarded him. He scooted back, dropping his arms at his sides, his face stern. His robes fell from one of his shoulders, revealing the upper part of his chest, glistening from the rain and his dripping hair.

She crawled to him, her eyes never moving from his, silent as she came inches from his face.  
“I hate you. I hate you so fucking much. For everything.” He breathed, shaking. His fists clenched at his sides, his cock aching against the fabric of his trousers.

She wiped her arm across her chin, smearing the blood away. Her hands cupped his face as she leaned up to kiss him.

He cursed her between breathless kisses. His hands roamed her, peeling away her clothing. She moaned into them, retaliating with a slew of swears as she tore away his layers. She pushed him back into the hay, fully disrobing. He followed suit, watching her every move. She crawled over him, grinding against his length, already wet. A shaky moan escaped him.

She leaned forward, kissing him as she angled herself over him, before taking his length in one swift movement. Seteth cried out, silenced by her lips once more. She began to ride him, slowly, gently. Savoring each move, he filled every inch of her.

Thunder rumbled.

Seteth reached up to caress her nipples, pulling at them gently to elicit soft moans from her. His gaze was hungry, roaming over her with lustful eyes.

As she found her rhythm, he began to follow with small bucks of his hips. He thrust into her at her pace, leaning up to take a nipple in his mouth and suck. She cried out, clenching his cock.

“Seteth--”  
He sucked harder pulling his head back until his mouth made a satisfying pop as he broke from her nipple. His hands grabbed her ass, assisting her movements for a moment before moving up her muscled back.

Lighting flickered.

He pulled her forward so he could kiss and nip his way up to her neck, inhaling her scent. “You are a miracle.” He breathed. She moaned, riding faster. He moved his hands back to her ass to assist once more with the steady pace. “Byleth, I’m going to--”  
“Not yet.” She growled, forcing herself down into his hips as far as she could. His eyes rolled back in his head.  
“Loathsome creature.” Seteth whined. His cock twitched inside her. She curled her lip as she glared down at him, pulling herself off of him. “I hate you.” He said through gritted teeth, palming his cock.

“I hate you too.” She sat atop a hay bale, spreading her legs open. “You want to cum, don’t you?”  
He nodded.  
“Then tell me how much you hate me.” She gestured to her gaping pussy. He crawled to her, kissing up her thigh before sinking into her sex. His eyes focused up, never breaking his stare from hers. His tongue was skilled, lapping at her greedily, swirling around her clit.

Her eyelashes fluttered yet she held his gaze, a wicked grin traversing her face. “You’re _filthy_.”  
He worked his shaft as he devoured her cunt. Byleth wove her fingers into his emerald mane, pulling him into her further. He moaned, shaking.  
“I’m close,” she breathed. He pulled back from her pussy, his chin glistening with her juices. She scowled at the move.  
“I’d rather cum with you.”  
“I hate you.”  
He crawled over her, pushing her down. He chuckled, “Oh Byleth. You are already aware how much I despise you.” It was his turn to wear the wicked grin as he spread her legs then laid over her, moving his cock into position. He propped an elbow next to her shoulder, and the other followed.

His tip teased her entrance and she swore. He silenced her with a deep kiss before sheathing himself into her with a great force. She liked her own taste, delving into the kiss further.

She cried out into his lips, but continued to kiss him as a hand brushed against her cheek and into her hair, stroking her in time with his soft thrusts. Deep, slow, but hard.  
She gasped breaking from him for air, her breath heavy. His breathing became labored as he increased his pace. He pressed his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes as he continued, the only sound beyond the rain and thunder was their breaths and moans.  
He edged, holding back everything until she began to tense. “S-Seteth. I’m--” She moaned, pulling his orgasm from him as she rode through hers, grinding into him.

He filled her until his balls ached and his cock grew oversensitive from the friction, but remained inside of her. He stilled, looming over her as they caught their breath, their eyes never breaking until their wind returned.

He laid down, still entangled with her and inside her, nuzzling into her neck. She wrapped her arms around him with a sigh.

“The wyverns will be heading back soon.” She broke the silence, stirring him from his dozing.  
He frowned. “I do not wish to move.”  
“It’s almost dinner time.”  
“I am not hungry.”  
“People will wonder where we are.”  
“They certainly will.”  
“We don’t want them to find us like this.”  
He grumbled, “I hate it when you’re right.” He groaned, pulling himself from her. She whimpered at the sensation. “Your lip seems to have stopped bleeding. Would you like me to patch it for you still?” He slid his trousers back on, avoiding her gaze.  
“I’ll be fine. Are you alright?” She asked, gathering her clothes.

“Yes.”

“We should focus on our work.”  
“I’m inclined to agree. Us like this is… detrimental.”

“Inconvenient.”  
“Blasphemous.”  
“Inappropriate.”  
“Unnecessary.”

“A distraction.”

They finished dressing, then stood in the doorway for a moment, watching the rain in silence. Seteth stole a glance at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, looking away when her eyes flicked to him. He stepped out into the rain.

\---

Byleth lingered behind, watching as he disappeared into the haze of the deluge. From the opposite direction, the wyverns returned, plodding back into the stables, shaking their scales free of the rain. She made sure they were all accounted for, giving Lightning and Pebbles some extra fish before leaving for the dining hall.


	11. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rain delays their plans, but when it stops they move forward with the war effort. Byleth is reckless and Seteth tries desperately to reason with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLOT TIME! A plot heavy chapter... there's plenty of action, but it just happens to be... non-sexy

Rain delayed their plans for clearing out the bandits. Limited visibility meant the scouts were unable to do their jobs as effectively as they wanted. Bored and wanting to avoid crossing paths with Seteth, Byleth found herself in the library of the abyss, discovering the works that Seteth had banished from the monastery.

Opening a few of the tomes made her question why he was such a stickler for censoring the library of Garreg Mach. Then she found a book that brought her an understanding, although she indulged in the fact that it was so scandalous.

Byleth decided taking one of those books up with her so she could pass the time wouldn’t hurt. With the rain drumming on, she stole away to the gazebo, enjoying the solitude. There, she could read the misadventures of the General and the Priestess to her heart’s content. Blushing at the detailed scenes without worrying about prying eyes…

Or so she thought.

\---

“I see you’re getting some reading done. No time like the present, eh teach?” Claude chimed, startling her. The book fell from her hands, sliding across the gazebo floor to his feet. “What’s this?” He picked it up, “The General and the Priestess… isn’t this one of those forbidden books? Something like this in the monastery could invoke Seteth’s wrath.”  
“As if the books in the monastery library are so intriguing. I could care less what Seteth thinks.” She rolled her eyes. “Hand it over.”  
“I wanted to ask,” Claude leaned back against the gazebo rail, thumbing through the pages, “is there something going on between you and Seteth?”  
Her face grew bright red. “O-of course not. He’s such a pain. I can hardly stand the guy!”  
“Methinks thou doth protest too much, teach.” Claude chuckled, looking up from the book before turning a few more pages.

“Come on Claude, give me back my book.”  
“I’ll give it back if you tell me the truth.”  
“The truth?”  
“I’m not stupid teach. But I’m also not about to go blithering to everyone about it, either. You managed to keep my secret safe.”  
She sighed, “Seteth and I have a very complicated rapport. Truly I cannot stand him. We hate each other.” She crossed her arms, looking out into the rain. “When we got lost out in the wilderness, it began to snow. We were cold and one thing led to another…”  
“I guessed as much from how you sounded when you got back. I just needed confirmation.”  
She pouted. “Look, Claude. I cannot stress to you enough that we really do despise one another. That whole debacle was just a product of circumstances and a lapse in judgement.”  
“If you say so.” He shrugged, tossing the book back to her. “That doesn’t really explain the kiss outside the classrooms last week.”  
“H-hey!” She shouted after him, but he was already brisking away in the rain. _Shit. That little schemer. He just wants any amount of leverage he can get, even if I know he’s too goodhearted to use it._

She mulled over her past few run-ins with the advisor.  _ It’s nothing more than a lapse in judgement. Unless Seteth’s not admitting to something? _ She returned to the world between the pages in her hand.

\---

“Ah professor. I didn’t expect to see you out here.” Seteth spotted her as he passed the hedge, appreciating the fact that the rain lightened to a drizzle. Her attention snapped to him, closing the book she was reading and placing it on the gazebo rail behind her.

“Seteth, what a surprise. What are you doing out?”  
“Well I noticed it was our usual teatime and you hadn’t been around. I decided to keep in the habit of taking a break and go for a walk through the grounds. I assumed you were busy so I didn’t want to seek you out.” He explained.

“I’m glad you are at least taking a break.”  
“I find I have been more productive after them. It is a good practice to keep.” He approached her, leaning against the rail next to her. “Enjoying some rainy day reading?”  
“With our plans delayed, I figured why not?” She chuckled nervously.  
He slid his hand along the rail behind her, snatching up the book, “You seemed like you were trying to hide it. You know there’s no shame in some light reading…”

“No, that’s not--” She blurted.  
He read the title, his brows knitting together. “The General and the Priestess. This is not an approved book of our library.” He tutted. “Reading such scandalous things is not permitted here.”  
“Oh come on Seteth give it a rest.” She groaned.  
“Especially a lackluster title as this.” He shook his head, returning the book to the rail. “There are so many better stories you could indulge in,” he purred.  
“Such as?” She cocked an eyebrow.  
“The Professor and the Saint.”  
“I’m not familiar with that one, what’s it about?” She tried to stifle the wry smile pulling at her lips.

“It’s about a sinful young professor who causes nothing but trouble, and the saint who helps her see the error of her delinquent ways.” He leaned over her.  
“Sounds boring.” She yawned, snatching her book back and trotting away.  
Seteth grumbled.

\---

The rain soon abated, and the Knights dispatched, Byleth joining them as they cleared out the surrounding regions from bandits, quickly and out of the eye of the Empire, or any other factions. No one needed to know that the Knights of Seiros were operating again, and it was already hard enough to hush the whispers about Garreg Mach being restored.

The days were grueling, long. Battle after battle, Byleth improved her flying skills and the villages grew more secure. She even managed to take a short detour from her work in Gaspard territory to see to it that a certain innkeeper received a generous donation.

Beyond dealing with the bandits and securing the Alliance, Seteth and Byleth butted heads again in the war room as they tried to determine their next move.

“Taking the Empire on now will end this swiftly.”  
“Charging in is reckless and we’d likely get flanked by Kingdom forces that are sympathetic to Edelgard.” Seteth countered. “We can accumulate more forces and supplies if we finish dealing with the problems in the Alliance, then move into the Kingdom, pushing their lines back and leaving them scattered and demoralized.”

“We can’t waste any more time!” Byleth’s voice rose. “Claude, back me up here.” She looked to her friend.  
“No, teach. He’s got a point. This just might be the best plan of action. Going into Empire territory is an uphill battle, and we don’t have the forces or supplies. Flanking is a very real possibility.” He nodded. “While we’re ending our facade of neutrality now, we should still be swift about moving forward, so you’re right about that, teach. Seteth, will you be willing to work at our pace if we follow your plan?”  
His piercing gaze settled on Byleth. “I will.”

“Very well. Let’s gather our allies and march across Fodlan.” Byleth raised her fist.

“That won’t be necessary.” Seteth shook his head. “Garreg Mach is a central location to all of Fodlan. We can easily return here to recuperate and dispatch wherever needed. This gives us a strategic advantage, the monastery is already well fortified and at an advantage.”  
“I agree.” Claude nodded.

Irritated, Byleth’s fist crumpled the corner of the map before her. “Fine.” She said through gritted teeth.

“Perhaps you should practice more patience, Byleth.” Seteth muttered under his breath.  
“What was that?” Byleth snapped at him.  
“Easy now, we all came to an agreement, right?” Claude moved between them. “This will work out.”

Byleth nodded, before storming out of the room.   
  
\---

The war room cleared out, and Claude lingered behind as Seteth mulled over the plan. “Things are still volatile between you and teach, huh?”  
“Her recklessness is a liability and a blight on the monastery.” He muttered, his focus on straightening the crumpled map below him. “This is who you want as the leader of the unified Fodlan?”  
“I’d do it myself, but… Well I have my reasons.” Claude chuckled.

“I worry about what will happen at the end of the war. Where we will all go…”  
“Garreg Mach seems like a perfect capital location if you ask me. Strategic, central. Great office space. Signing papers in that audience chamber? Sounds like a dream.” Claude chuckled.  
Seteth imagined seeing Byleth sitting at the archbishop’s desk, writing a decree. He imagined standing beside her as she held audience with her subjects. His ears burned and he was grateful his hair hid them from the prying eyes of the schemer next to him.

“I suppose.” He sighed.

\---

Though the plan was solidified and they began their advance, Byleth and Seteth still bickered over trivial details. Everything was an issue between them and it was driving the Golden Deer and the Knights to their wit’s end. Because of this, Byleth was kept separated and distracted from Seteth. Seteth found himself bogged down by the most arbitrary paperwork that apparently could not be delegated out.

The efforts of keeping them separated worked, but made every time they crossed paths even more explosive. Insults were hurled, and there were plenty of times when Catherine or Claude had to restrain one from physically assaulting the other in their fits of rage.

Beyond them, the two factions worked harmoniously and the war effort went smoothly, though those closest to Byleth and Seteth were demoralized from their squabbling.

Months passed, and efforts to reason with them came and went as their forces marched well into Kingdom territory. News came to them that castle Blaiddyd was under siege, and in hopes of gaining Kingdom allies, they dispatched immediately.  
Byleth, Seteth, and Claude, the most skilled of the wyvern riders flew ahead to scout the castle. Imperial troops had surrounded the fortress, but the lack of ballistas or flying countermeasures gave them confidence to advance.  
“Something doesn’t feel right.” Seteth eyed the castle walls below.

“Claude, circle back and rally the troops. I’ll bring the message to Dimitri.” Byleth ordered, already circling down over the castle. Claude flew back to their waiting troops.  
“Byleth, wait!” Seteth flew after her.

Byleth landed in the foggy courtyard of Blaiddyd castle, looking around. “Hello? Where is everyone?” She called. “Dimitri? We’ve come to help you.”

Seteth landed next to her, dismounting and drawing his axe. “Byleth, you can’t just charge into a castle in the middle of a siege.”  
A cackle rang through the courtyard, “He’s right you know.” A figure emerged from the fog, “Capture them!”

“Cornelia.” Seteth growled. “I had heard rumors you joined the Empire.” He took his stance. Byleth sent Lightning and Pebbles flying back to their lines.  _ Hopefully Claude will get the message. _

Byleth pulled her steel sword out, holding it ready. “What is this?”  
“A ruse.” Seteth snarled. “Look what you’ve gotten us into again.”

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” Cornelia advanced on them, flipping her hair. “You see, I have had arrows pointed at you two since before you even landed. Now will you come quietly, or should I kill you now?”  
“Where’s Dimitri?” Byleth demanded.  
Cornelia burst into a maniacal laugh. “Oh you poor fool. Haven’t you heard? Dimitri is dead!”

The fine warrior, the blessed prince. The world had no mercy for his broken soul. Byleth’s heart broke at the news.

“No… no, you lie!” She cried.  
“I have no more reasons to deceive you, now that you are in my clutches.” Cornelia laughed.  
“You’ll pay for what you’ve done!” Byleth screeched, charging at the woman.  
“Byleth, no!” Seteth yelled, running and tackling her, taking her down.

\---

The arrow in his shoulder burned. Seteth hissed, at the wound. Byleth pulled herself from him, turning around to see his wound. Her face went white with horror. Seteth took a breath and reached for the arrow in his shoulder.  
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Removing it will make the poison work faster, killing you quicker.” Cornelia laughed. Soldiers surrounded them, kicking Byleth’s sword away from her and taking her into custody.  
Seteth’s vision blurred. “Byleth…”  
“I have the antidote, fortunately, but I will need you to cooperate.”  
“Don’t harm her.” He gasped.  
Cornelia looked between them, flashing a toothy grin. “Oh of _course_ not.” She leaned over, whispering something to the mage next to her, who immediately ran back to the castle. “Take them to the dungeon and give him the antidote. I will need this handsome specimen in good health.”

His breathing grew ragged as the pain seared him. His vision faded, “Byleth, please hold on…”

Darkness enveloped him.

\---

The Summer breeze ruffled his hair, a hint of jasmine on the wind. Seteth breathed it in, listening to the crickets sing as the fireflies danced up into the stars. Something brushed against his shoulder and he turned toward it.  
Byleth stood there, looking radiant in a white dress. “Byleth, I was so worried about you.” He was elated. She was safe, they were alone, together. “I wanted to tell you something…”  
He reached for her, but she laughed, skipping two steps ahead of him. Seteth indulged her in this game, following like a lovesick puppy.

“Byleth, please. I want to tell you that I--”  
His vision flashed red and pain shot through him. He howled in agony as the arrow was wrenched from his shoulder. Heavy chains bound his arms to a wall, with a thick iron collar and chain around his neck. His head lolled to one side to watch as a healer’s hands worked their magic and the wound faded.  
“We’ll need him in good condition. Our time here is limited since the Alliance is advancing.” A cold, masculine voice rang through the damp chamber around him.  
“Byleth… where’s Byleth?” Seteth managed to muster the strength for words.

“You’ll be able to see her soon. But I have a few questions to ask you,  _ child of the goddess _ .”

His eyes snapped up to see the cold likeness of Lord Arundel. “You vile being… what do you know of me?”  
“You bear the crest of Cichol, do you not?”  
“Tch.”  
“And you are a relative of Flayn, who bears the crest of Cethleann, are you not?”  
“You will get no answers from me.” He snarled.  
“Ah, but I think I already have them. The Immaculate One… or rather, Lady Rhea was proof enough. And hair and eyes so rare as yours are a dead giveaway…”

“You know nothing of what you speak.”  
“I was so lucky to get my hands on Flayn, to study her, her blood. Sadly I didn’t get to keep any samples, but I wonder about you. You’re much older, can you transform like Rhea?”  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Seteth spat.  
“Every time you do not comply, I will be an inch closer to killing your comrade. Byleth, was it? Such a nice name. A shame if it were to fall out of use because of one selfish man.”

“Where is she?”  
“If you are so insistent on watching me kill her, then I suppose I could oblige.” He ordered the guards to bring Byleth in. She was dragged in, unconscious. A chain around her ankle was shackled to the wall across from him. “She was too much of a handful to keep awake. Don’t, fret. She is just sleeping, for now. I would like you to cooperate. Since our time is limited, I will have no hesitation about killing her so please do be considerate.”  
Seteth hung his head. “As long as she doesn’t wake up, I will tell you what you want.”  
“Such a generous soul.” His cold voice replied. “Flayn was unable to transform, but can you?”  
“I lost that ability long ago.”  
“Interesting.” Arundel made a few notes in a book on a nearby table. “And your name is…?”  
“Seteth.”  
“Is it, really?” Arundel narrowed his eyes.  
“I… I am Saint Cichol.” Seteth exhaled.

“I am glad I at last have some confirmation. Thank you for your cooperation.” He scribbled a bit more in his book. “Now, I wonder, I may have a way for you to transform again.”  
“No, that’s impossible.”  
Arundel drew something from his pocket, “I made this one myself, using… well, I don’t need to bother you with the details, but it’s quite a feat.” He knelt down before Seteth, pressing a stone into his forehead.  
“What--What are you doing?” Seteth glared at him.  
Arundel pressed the stone harder into his forehead. “Guards,” the guards at the cell entrance stood at attention. “Kill Byleth.”  
Seteth roared, pulling against his chains and pushing himself into the stone that Arundel held against his forehead. The guards moved toward Byleth. A flash of light filled the cell. Seteth felt the chain around his neck tightening, and a long-lost sensation returning to his bones. His eyes rolled back in his head at the painful sensation, horns growing from his temple and wings sprouting from his back. His spine lengthened into a long tail, tufted with green fur. His hands and feet ached as his nails elongated and hardened into claws.

A sound like an endless wind raged in his ears as his slowly lost his thoughts.

“Yes, yes! It’s working! Stand down, guards.” He ordered. The guards resumed their post, holding their lances ready as the gaped terrified at the creature before them. Arundel cackled, “An artificial crest stone, incredible.” Seteth lashed at him with a clawed hand, his talons tearing the sleeve of his robes. Arundel stepped back, admiring his work, but soon stopped, frowning. “You still look very much like a man, Cichol. I wonder if this is because of your inadequacy as a beast or a fault in my design.”  
Seteth’s mind was blank. All he knew was rage and utter madness. The strange man before him was an enemy that needed to be destroyed. Yet he could not move, something was holding him back…

“Such a disappointment. I suppose it didn’t do us any good after all. Still I believe there is something I need from the girl.” Arundel paced before Seteth, just out of reach. “Such a shame, but it’s probably better if I get it out of the way. Guards, now you may kill Byleth.”  
The guards moved, stirring Seteth’s rage. Any creature around him _must_ die. Arundel scribbled a few more notes in his book by the doorway, unphased by the beast’s rage. Seteth needed to kill the guards, he needed it more than anything. He strained against the chains, pulling harder and harder, lunging at the men who moved across the room.  
The chains snapped, and in seconds Seteth was across the room, looming over the thing that the guards were after. Whatever it was, it was his, he was certain. A terrifying roar shook the cell, and in a mighty swipe of his hand, he felled the guards.

A flicker of movement drew his attention as the cell door slammed shut, and Arundel fled. He roared, his rage shaking the walls around him. His thing, his small thing that he stood over was left alone.  
The thing made a noise.

\---

Horrible sounds drew her from a sleep she never wanted to fall into. She fought to return to the waking world, like she was swimming from the depths of a black lake to a surface just out of reach.

Byleth whimpered, slowly opening her eyes. A giant clawed hand scraped the stone floor inches from her face. She rolled over, her eyes following the hand to its arm, and the arm to its body…

A terrifying beastly Seteth loomed over her, his eyes white. Each heavy breath a low growl. Something was on his forehead, a strange red crystal unlike anything she had ever seen. She froze, realizing the half-transformed demonic Seteth was staring right at her.  
The beast snarled and she flinched. He leaned down over her, smelling her hair, then licking her cheek.  
“S-Seteth?” She whimpered.

The monster laid down over her, pulling her to his chest with his massive arms. A forlorn sound rumbled from his throat.

She reached up, trembling, slowly brushing her hand along his cheek. “It’s okay. It’s me, Byleth. I’m going to help you. There’s something on your forehead.”  
He growled as she reached toward it.  
“Please, Seteth. I want to help you. You look like a demonic beast… I think this thing is causing it.”  
He leaned down to allow her access, his blank eyes looking into hers.

She took a deep breath, her fist closing over the gem as she yanked it from his forehead. He threw back his head in an agonized roar. The crystal skidded across the cell floor.

A flash of light blinded her, and when her vision returned, Seteth’s head lay across her lap. His clothes were in tatters from the transformation.  
His voice was hoarse, “Byleth. I knew it was you.”

Byleth looked over the cell, the bodies of two guards slumped against the cell bars, the crystal in the corner. A table next to the door.

“What happened? Where is Arundel?”  
“I couldn’t get to him before he escaped…” Seteth replied. “You’re safe, I’m so glad you’re safe…”  
“We’re in a dungeon in case you haven’t noticed.”  
A dry chuckle left his throat as he gazed up into her eyes.


	12. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disheartened, Byleth leaves the war effort. Seteth ends up entangled in growing disputes between the Knights and the Golden Deer. Desperate for a solution, he ends up entangled in another way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many plans for this, but if you have prompt ideas, I'm always open!
> 
> Please leave a comment! The plot is a little heavy this chapter, but Seteth aims to please ;)
> 
> also cute wyverns are cute

Something twisted in Byleth’s gut as she sat in the cell with Seteth. Realizing he was right about her. Shame descended over her as she waited, hoping for a miracle. When the sounds of battle crescendoed outside, she prayed that their freedom would come swiftly.

Her Golden Deer won the day, taking castle Blaiddyd back from the Empire. Claude found them and freed them from their cell, questioning them about their rough state. He answered their questions: Cornelia was dead and there was no sign of Arundel.

After the chain around her ankle was broken, Byleth grabbed the red crystal from across the cell and threw it into the ground, shattering it across the stone floor. The vibrant crimson color faded from the shards.

She looked up to see Seteth and Claude watching her. Seteth in his tattered clothes pursed his lips and gave a solemn nod. Claude opened his mouth, before silencing another question. He knew she would not answer from the silence between them. With how Seteth looked, she was certain Claude concluded that some things were best left unsaid.

Occupying castle Blaiddyd for the following week to investigate and search for any information left behind from the Empire, they reached out finding old friends to be their allies. The former blue lions joined them, wishing to take back their Kingdom. In celebration, a ball was planned at the castle, before they were set to return to Garreg Mach.

Byleth had retreated within herself those past days, contemplating recent events. While the Blue Lions were happy to greet her at the ball, she was reserved. Things were stable now, and this victory was well-earned, no thanks to her.

She eyed Seteth across the ballroom. He lingered along the wall, silent, watching as their comrades mingled. She loomed in the doorway leading out to the castle gardens, thinking about her next move.  
Not with him, but in general.

“Teach.” Claude chimed, opening his arms to her and patting her shoulder. “What are you doing over here by your lonesome? Celebrate with our new allies.”  
“About that…” Byleth stared at her feet. “Claude, I need to leave the war effort.”  
Claude’s face fell, caught completely off-guard. “Why’s that?”  
“I have my reasons. I can’t stay.” _I’m a liability. All I’ve done is complicated things and held us back. I have no place in the Alliance, with the Golden Deer… and no place with the church and the Knights…_

“This is… sudden. I honestly don’t know what to say, teach.” Claude shook his head. “I know you’ve made up your mind and my words may not hold much sway with you, but I’d hate to see you leave. You mean a lot to us.”  
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I think things will be better this way.” She gave him a false smile, even thought she knew he’d see right through it.

“When are you leaving?”  
“Tonight. By the time you get back to Garreg Mach, I’ll probably have cleared out.”

“Well… I wish you the best, and I hope that our paths can cross again.” Claude squeezed her shoulder. “I don’t know what my life would have been like if I didn’t have a friend like you.”

She nodded, taking her leave into the night.

\---

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Seteth asked softly, resisting every urge to take Claude by the collar and shake him until he told him everything.

“I mean teach just took off.” Claude shrugged. “Said she had her reasons. Who am I to pry? This whole war has been like walking a dagger’s edge. She has every right to take her leave. After all, she was a mercenary.”  
Seteth swore. No wonder he hadn’t seen her since the night at the ball. The morning after their return to Garreg Mach, he noticed that Lightning wasn’t present in his stable, and Byleth didn’t attend the war council the following day. _How could she just leave us all?_

“We still have a war to fight, Seteth.” Claude sighed. “We have to continue forward.”  
Seteth swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes, of course.” His heart was torn from his chest, though he couldn’t admit it to himself. “I suppose if she had her reasons, it is probably for the best.”  
Except it wasn’t. Byleth’s absence was like a gaping hole in between the Golden Deer (and newly recruited Blue Lions) and the Knights. Over the course of the next few weeks, things began to unravel between the two factions.

It began as miscommunications between the forces on small missions, and grew to small disputes over supplies. Soon, larger issues and fights broke out. It was all Claude and Seteth could do to keep everything together, though both had their sympathies tied to their allegiance. Their mutual wariness of each other began to grow to a larger distrust.

After a grueling day of damage control between a particularly nasty feud in the marketplace, Seteth holed himself up in his office, trying to figure out a solution. He paced his office, scribbling notes and outlining ideas before scrapping them. When the candles burned low late into the night, he collapsed in his chair, his head in his hands.

_ We need her. I need her. _

The disputes between the Knights and the Golden Deer had grown out of control. When Byleth was present, those issues were contained to their bickering. They always managed to reach a solution, only occasionally needing Claude to step in.

The Empire wouldn’t wait for them.

A crushing weight pulled at his heart. Was the practicality really that important to him? Or did he really miss her? A feeling of longing welled within him, and he suppressed it quickly, instead concluding that for the good of the war effort, he would need to seek her out. For the sake of practicality.

\---

High in the mountains to the east, north of the Eastern Church, Byleth had made a new life of solitude for herself and Lightning in an abandoned mill. The lush forest sang with birds, a creek babbled meters from its former bed under the now rotting millwheel.

Byleth put herself to work, patching the roof and making it into a base for herself to return to, planning to take occasional mercenary work in the region. She converted a former storehouse into a stable for Lightning, finding the stable adjacent to the mill was in no condition for her steed.

It was a peaceful life. One she had never considered. Yet her shoulders were unburdened and now she realized what she had been fighting for.

It was a world away. She had done her time, paid her dues. Now she worked to till a patch of land between the storehouse and the mill where she could grow her food, welcoming the new blisters on her palms as her biggest adversary. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, but a good life nonetheless.

Yet her heart ached every day, having grown accustomed to having social interaction daily. She wasn’t the most extroverted person, nor was she a complete introvert, but the constant presence of her friends and comrades was something she missed.

At least she didn’t have to deal with Seteth constantly harping her for whatever decided to tick him off that day. A blessing. Despite his nagging he was a capable ally, and their rivalry was almost entertaining to her. As she worked away on her garden, her thoughts often wandered to him, much to her dismay. She would shake them away, knowing she was just bored from the lack of banter.

Lightning fished in the creek nearby as she hacked away at gnarled roots in her to-be garden, sweat beading on her brow. The spring air was turning from crisp to warm, and the cicada song swelled in the trees.

In her time alone, she knew to prepare for any intruders, ever the diligent mercenary. Claude had been kind enough to show her how to make snares and traps back during their academy days, and she had created an elaborate perimeter of booby traps to guard her new homestead from intruders.

She never expected it to be used so soon.

\---

Seteth followed a fine trail of rumors and accounts up into the mountains in his search for the professor. With the ties between the factions fraying, their days were numbered before the Adrestian Empire would push back against their progress. He decided that he would take action, telling the Knights he needed a leave of absence for a few days to do an investigation, the details of which were left vague.

When his search brought him to a tiny village of Kupala, he learned of a green-haired newcomer who bought seeds and began to fix up an old mill to the south. Knowing his wyvern was wary, he urged her on for one more flight that day.

He followed a creek, spotting the old mill he was told of, and circled overhead. A wyvern fished in the waters below, and Pebbles trilled, recognizing him. He pulled the reins, beginning his descent through the canopy.

Something swung at him, knocking him off of Pebbles and sending her tumbling below. His back slammed into a tree before he slid down, bumping into branches as he fell into a snare. He struggled, more ropes coiling around him until he was completely bound, suspended inches from the ground.

Pebbles whimpered meters away, caught in a net.

\---

Something big triggered one of her traps, ringing a small bell that she had rigged as an alarm. She dropped her hoe, dashing into her house for her sword before running out. Lightning was already ahead of her, running toward another wyvern’s cry.

She followed her mount, discovering a wyvern with a familiar-looking saddle. Her brow furrowed as she looked up, glancing around for the rider. She cut the beast free from the net, allowing her to trot off with Lightning.

A grunt drew her attention a few meters further to her snare at the bottom of a large tree. This unfortunate soul had caught themselves in three of her traps, and was now tangled and suspended barely above the ground. As she approached, her heart sank.

Her eyes met Seteth’s striking green glare. “Do you think this many traps are necessary?” He huffed.

“Why have you come here?” She demanded, pointing her blade at his throat, furious.

“We need you.” He replied. “I… need you.”  
“You’re not here to scold me? Not here to blame me for what happened to you at Blaiddyd?”

He shook his head, “At first I wanted to, but things at Garred Mach have gotten dire.” His presence in her sanctuary made her blood boil.

“You’re all better off without me. I realize I was reckless.” She set her blade aside with a sigh. “You could have been killed. I could have been killed… You could have killed me…”

“But I didn’t. When I was transformed, there was nothing in my madness that told me to hurt you. There was nothing that would have brought me to harm you.”  
“You don’t know that. If you managed to remain like that, if I had made a wrong move…”  
“I do know that.” He countered. “It didn’t happen. You were safe, and you saved me from that terror. I doubt anyone else would be so brave to pull that… thing from my head.”  
“Tch. You should leave. I don’t want you here.”  
“No. I want you back at Garreg Mach.”

She scoffed.

“I want you there… with me.” His voice softened. She hesitated. “Please. What will it take to convince you to come back?”  
She glanced over her shoulder to see Lightning and Pebbles jumping into the trees in some sort of game. Her peaceful homestead was serene, free of troubles from the war. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

“You were right. I was too reckless. And being around you… we are not good for each other.” She wounded herself with her own words.

“You know that’s a lie. We kept everything in check. We have almost pushed the Empire back to their borders.” She was silent, a long pause between them. He heaved a sigh, “And what about those times when we were alone?” His voice low. “What about those times when you’d clutch by back and sing my name? You can’t tell me that was a lie.”  
Her face reddened. “Shut up.” She hissed.

“I’d do anything to have you back, Byleth. We can’t do this without you.”

“This won’t stop us from fighting.”  
He smirked. “I don’t expect it to. But we need your leadership to take back Fodlan. Please, I will do anything.”

That awful itch in the back of her mind came roaring to the front of her thoughts. Looking down at him bound in her trap stirred her, and she had him right where she wanted him. A wry smile crossed her face.

\---

Shock rippled through Seteth as she disrobed before him, tossing her clothes aside. That feeling was soon replaced by arousal as the ropes around him suddenly felt a lot tighter… and it felt good.

“You said you’d do anything, huh?” Byleth smirked down at him, her pussy at his eye level. “Maybe you could make the trouble worth my while.”

“You’re disgusting.” He spat, though his cock betrayed his words.  
Her fingers wove into his green locks before curling into a fist, pulling his head back. “Despite your hatred, you’re still begging for me to come back?”

He groaned, “Yes, please come back, professor.”  
“Byleth.” She corrected.  
“Please Byleth, please come back. I’ll do _anything_.”

“Anything?” She cooed.

“Anything.” He rasped as she pulled him into her crotch, his hot breath tickling her curls.

“Prove it.” She mewled.

Seteth didn’t hesitate to bury himself into her, his eyes fluttering closed as her taste graced his tongue. The taste he didn’t realize he had been longing for. He moaned, lapping at her clit before sliding further into her folds, seeking more of her. Her free hand caressed his cheek as he worked, her other fist still holding him in position, the pain from his hair being pulled sending a tingle down his spine.

The ropes around him as well as the friction of his trousers over his cock were unbearable. He could feel the precum leaking. Something about his predicament made him all the more eager to please her.

She sighed over him, twitching as he tonguefucked her. “You’re pathetic.” He could only respond with a whine, persisting. “Be a good saint and finish me, will you?” She purred. She widened her stance, shoving him further in until he could hardly breathe.

It was heaven. She trembled over him, finally reaching her orgasm. Byleth gushed over him, bucking her hips into his face as she cried out. He’d take whatever praise he could get from her, even if there were no coherent words.

She stepped back, her legs wobbly as she regained her composure. “Fucking hell, Seteth.” They both regained their wind, Byleth turning and picking up her clothes and her sword, moving to head back inside.

“You are not going to cut me loose?” Seteth’s voice cracked, cum dripping from his chin. Still hard and suspended in her trap.

She only laughed.

He howled in frustration, cursing her. “I hate you! You wretched tease, I hate you!” His balls ached.

\---

She took her time returning to him, taking a slow lunch and going for a dip in the creek to wash, just out of his view. Knowing he was there and unable to move, likely frustrated beyond comprehension was a most enjoyable thought.

She watched Pebbles fish downstream while Lightning napped in the shade, mulling over his request. Was it worth it to return?

_ He did come a rather long way to find me… _ _ He would have really had to search to figure out where I was. He must be desperate. _

The shadows grew long as she returned to him refreshed and dressed, finding him still muttering swears under his breath as he dangled in the snare. His attention shot up to her, his glare ignited with fury.

“How dare you leave me here!” He snarled.  
“Keep that attitude up and you’ll sleep here.” She growled. “I’ve been thinking about your question.”  
“And?”  
“Well, you said you’d do anything to have me back, right?” She smirked.

“Anything.”  
“Then no more dusting for me.”  
“Fine.”  
“And you have to do my laundry.”  
“Now wait just a second--”  
“I guess you really don’t care…” She shrugged, turning to leave.  
“Fine, consider it done.” He huffed. “Anything else?”  
“I suppose it’d be too unreasonable to ask you to stop hounding me over every little thing.”  
“Better us squabble than have the rest of the troops tear each other apart.” Seteth pointed.

She nodded. “Very well. We’ll leave in the morning.”

With a swipe of her sword she cut him down. He handed with a thud and a grunt, “You couldn’t have made that a little gentler?”  
She cut his hands free, letting him remove the rest of the ropes as she returned into the house to prepare dinner. With it being her last night at her new home, she made them a hearty meat stew, herbed rice, skewered vegetables, and sweet bread, depleting most of what she had stocked up. She boiled a pot of ginger tea.

Seteth was surprised to see a feast waiting for him when he ventured into the old mill. He glanced around. The house was barren, but Byleth had obviously worked to get it into shape. “It’s lovely here.” He said.  
“A shame I have to leave.”

“Maybe… one day after the war, we could come back.”  
“We?” She looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow, setting two bowls on the table.  
He glanced away, hiding the blush in his cheeks. “Thank you for the meal. Is that ginger tea?” She nodded. “Another one of my favorites.” He smiled. She helped herself to the food, and he followed suit. They ate mostly in silence, few words between them.  
After having been searching for her for over a week, having such a lavish meal was most welcome. He restrained his gratitude, tension still pulling between them. He didn’t want to inflate her ego any further after their tangled reunion.

She yawned and stretched, heading up the stairs to retire.

“Where will I sleep?” He asked.  
“The floor?” She shrugged. He made an indignant huff to which she countered, “It’s either that or the stable.”  
“You don’t have a bed?”

“Oh, I do. It’s lovely and I just stuffed the mattress myself. But I’d rather not share with you.” Seteth was aghast as she continued up the stairs. He scrambled out of his seat, shoving past her to see her accommodations.

The bed was a generous size for two people. Outraged, he said, “You won’t let me sleep here?”  
She loomed behind him, crossing her arms, “If you’re going to throw a fit about it, then fine. Just don’t get any ideas.”

\---

As soon as his head hit the pillow, Seteth’s breathing steadied into a slumber. Byleth watched him for a moment, realizing how exhausted he must have been from his travels. He certainly was ravenous. She recalled how Pebbles had spent much of the afternoon fishing in the creek, probably starved as well. Their wyverns were probably curled up in the storehouse now, sleeping as Seteth was.

She rolled over, putting a log on the fire to keep them warm through the night. Staring up at the ceiling she wondered what Seteth had gone through over the past few weeks without her, and then to seek her out.

_ Are things really that bad? Do they really need me that much? _

When the morning came, she found herself using his chest as a pillow. His breathing remained steady. Disgusted with herself, she got up. He could sleep for a while longer.  
Morning light streamed through the windows as she baked sweet buns for breakfast and prepared some food for their journey. She packed the few things she had.

Seteth came downstairs, “It smells delicious.” He eyed the breakfast she made on the table, along with another pot of ginger tea. She didn’t respond, instead going to extinguish the cooking fire. He sat and ate, his heart singing over her cooking.

After a long silence, she spoke, “You must have been exhausted last night.”  
“I went through hell trying to find you. I searched every village until I found any leads, and followed them all. Pebbles and I hardly rested.” He chuckled, sipping tea.  
“You were hungry, too.”  
“Thank you for that.” He regretted not filtering his compliment, “Your cooking is amazing.” _Shit._ She seemed to shrug it off, not taking the opportunity to gloat like she normally would. “I love this tea.”  
“You said it was one of your favorites.”  
“You didn’t have to.”

“We should leave soon.”

“I know we are pressed for time, but Pebbles is probably still weary. Perhaps we could go at a slower pace?” He asked.  
“Of course.” She nodded. “I’ll follow you and if you want to stop, we can stop.”

He met her gaze with a small smile. After eating and resting, he was in a cheery mood. Something about finding her and having a quiet moment over breakfast warmed him. The usual animosity between them eased. She returned his grin, it’s beauty striking his heart like a bolt of lightning.

Suddenly the idea of doing her laundry didn’t seem so bad.


	13. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth returns to the monastery with Seteth. Things fall into an interesting routine as springtime drags on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spaceelf's hottest new Setleth fic is Cage of Thorns.   
> This chapter has everything: hot tea, a dance, secret messages and wyvern sex
> 
> (If you read that in Stefon's voice from SNL give yourself a cookie)
> 
> This chapter is kind of... I think the word is fluffy? I'm still not entirely fluent in fanfic terminology but I think that is what this is

They stopped at an inn for the night, halfway to Garreg Mach. Seteth tried to hide his disappointment when there were rooms available for each of them. Byleth seemed unphased. This time he was prepared, paying the expenses and buying them a decent meal.

She retired to her room early, leaving him alone in the inn common area. He reclined in his chair over the cleaned plates from their meal, sipping on some Almyran pine needle tea. Not his favorite, but he didn’t want to pester Byleth to unpack her teas just for him, resigning himself to whatever the innkeeper had.

Pensive over his brew, he reflected on their relationship. Could it even be called that? Rivalry seemed more appropriate. He frowned. Despite their continued bickering they still couldn’t resist each other in their most heated moments. The image of her face flushed with ecstasy flashed across his mind. He adored the vision, savoring the memory. He could admit such a loathsome creature was attractive. She wasn’t completely deaf to reason, passionate and dedicated to whatever cause she chose. She certainly was considerate to him, making him jerky after their first misadventure when he had expressed his delight over it. She even brewed his favorite teas for him once she learned it.

He glared down at the nearly depleted cup before him. Claude said that she would be the future ruler of Fodlan. Did she even know that? Or was it decided without her consent based on everything that had transpired since she first arrived at the monastery years ago? Could she even manage such a burden? She would need all the help she could get. She would need someone to support her. Claude and her Golden Deer weren’t committed to Garred Mach and Fodlan forever, each having their own homes to return to.  _ But I could. I could be the one to support her. _

His face flushed as he halted his thoughts from wandering any further.  _ No, she is the bane of my existence. We despise each other. _

\---

Byleth was welcomed back to the monastery with a small celebration that quickly turned into an informal ball. Surprised at the enthusiasm, she was warmed to reunite with her friends as thought she had merely taken a vacation. Dancing with her best friend Claude, she reveled in her good company, though she grew weary of being the center of attention, taking a break. She strolled around the monastery in the cool air, before finding herself at the Goddess Tower.

Five years ago she stood there with Claude, promising they would lead Fodlan to a brighter future, seeking to build friendships with the world beyond. She wished for everyone at the monastery’s happiness.

She inhaled, the scent of oncoming summer wafting in the evening breeze. Footsteps drew her attention to the shadows.

Seteth emerged, “Ah, I was not expecting to find you here.”  
“I needed a break from all the attention.”  
“I also needed to get away from the crowds,” he nodded, joining her side. “I remembered seeing you five years ago, making a promise with Claude.”  
“You snooped on me?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“I did not intend to eavesdrop, but I was merely curious about an old legend.”

“I promised Claude that we would work together to build a better future for Fodlan.”

“He is a good friend to follow through that goal with you.”  
“The best, really.” She chuckled. “If you were here those years ago, did you make a wish?”  
He laughed softly, “It seems silly, but I did indeed make a wish. I wished for everyone at the monastery to find happiness. Only because I didn’t know what else to wish for.”  
“Huh. I wished for the same.” She admitted.  
“If you were to make a wish now, what would you wish for?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Peace? What about you?”  
He was silent for a long moment, “I have lived a very long time. Thinking back on everything, I wish that the coming centuries won’t be quite as lonely.”

“You have Flayn, don’t you?”  
“She is the light of my life, but I know she will not want to stay with me for much longer. She will want to pursue her own life after this war, when things are safe. I cannot stop her from seeking her happiness, if I want to stay true to my first wish.”

“Then I’d wish for you to have that happiness, too.” She replied.

He smiled. “With it being just us here, would you…” He cleared his throat, “Would you care to dance?” He offered his hand with a bow.

Her mind screamed against it as she took his hand, allowing him to lead. His eyes were beautiful, gazing into hers as he held that soft smile. Something about it was so genuine…

Seteth slowed his steps, drawing her closer. He brushed a hand into her hair and leaned in…

_ Snap out of it. _ She pushed a hand against his chest, taking a step back, “We should go back.” Her cheeks burned as she glanced away.

He straightened, his voice wavering. “Ah, yes. They are probably wondering where you are.”

She hurried back, not realizing he hadn’t followed her until she glanced back over her shoulder to see he wasn’t there.

\---

Byleth’s room wasn’t very tidy. Seteth was bewildered how she could work so well to dust his office before, but still have such clutter and unkempt habits. He sighed, collecting her laundry, without a word as she read at her desk.

When he returned with her clothes washed and folded later in the day, he found her door unlocked, her room empty. Deciding to postpone his other responsibilities for a while, he worked to tidy her room to an extent where he didn’t feel like he was invading her privacy, reminded of that fateful day he hid away in her closet.

Her room was still bare since she returned, prompting him to head to the greenhouse. He mulled over his memory of follower meanings as he picked a bouquet. Violets for her loyalty to their cause, contrasted by small orange lilies for his disdain. He procured a vase, setting them on her desk.

\---

Byleth returned to her room, finding her clothes folded and her bed made. She suspected Seteth tidied her room while she was away, leaving an attractive purple and orange bouquet on her desk. Upon closer examination, she racked her brain, trying to recall something about people sending messages in flowers.

She went to the greenhouse for answers, finding that while she was given violets for loyalty (whatever that meant since she had just ran off), she was also presented with orange lilies. Of course his seemingly kind gesture was just another way for him to express his disdain.

They were still pretty to look at, and she cared for them.

She decided to reciprocate the gesture, bringing Seteth a small bouquet with his tea the following day.

“Teasels and rockets.” Seteth observed, sipping at his cup of ginger tea. He met her eyes across his desk. “Some say certain flowers have meanings.”

“Really?” Byleth feigned ignorance, taking a bite of a scone. “I wonder what these could mean.”  
He frowned. She chuckled inwardly, knowing rockets were for their rivalry, and teasels for their mutual hatred of one another.

“I thought they would brighten up this place. After I found a bouquet left for me yesterday. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”  
“Hm? You did leave your door unlocked, anyone could have left you flowers.” He replied, taking another drink. “Perhaps you have a secret admirer?”  
“Perhaps.” She eyed him.

Wordlessly, he took the small bouquet and set it in a vase on his desk.

\---

Seteth came to do her laundry again while she had left for the day on a mission with the Golden Deer to track some activity in the West. She had taken good care of the bouquet, but it began to look withered. Tossing it, he decided upon his next message.

Hyacinth for this game they now played, mingled with abatina for her fickleness.  
The following day, she brought him Lobelia for his arrogance, alongside forsythia for her anticipation of what would come next.

“I found this book with flower meanings,” Seteth held up a small book upon seeing the bouquet. “Perhaps we could see what those mean.”  
“Oh?” Byleth cocked her head. She swallowed the lump in her throat, “Certainly all flowers don’t have meanings, do they?” Her feigned ignorance continued.

“Well let’s see, these are lobelia and forsythia…” He thumbed through the pages. He smirked at her, “Forsythia means anticipation. Interesting. But what to anticipate?” He sighed, nonchalant as he flipped through the pages, finding lobelia. “...And arrogance. Not quite a complement.” He raised an eyebrow at her, his face stern.

“My secret admirer brought flowers again, too. What do hyacinth and abatina mean?” She wove her fingers together and rested her chin over them, watching with interest.

“Abatina… ah, you’re fickle, apparently.” Seteth chuckled, already knowing. “And hyacinth is for… games.” A knowing glint in his eye. “Hm. With the flowers you brought me previously, it almost seems like a pointed message.”

“Oh?” She asked coyly.

“But I suppose coincidences are probably common. After all, the bouquets are quite lovely. Flowers are always a welcome gift.” He smiled, electricity between their stares.

“Certainly.” She sipped her tea.

\---

Byleth took watch as the wyverns roamed freely in an open field near the monastery. A river bordered the clearing, where Byleth sat atop a boulder, watching a few of their flock fish, while others ran and flew around the field. With the end of spring approaching, she basked in the warm sun. On the other side of the river the village market bustled, and she eyed Seteth running errands in the shops.

He spotted her as he loaded up a cart with sacks of flour to return to the monastery. He pulled out a small journal, marking some notes before glancing back up at her. She gave a small wave, and to her dismay, he crossed the stone bridge nearby to join her.  
“I see you are enjoying this pleasant weather.” He greeted.

She nodded to the journal under his arm, “What’s that?”  
“Just my supply lists and notes for the week.” He said handing it over. “It’s how I keep on track with everything I have to do at the monastery.” She looked through the pages, spotting doodles, lists, and notes. Some relevant to monastery supply needs, while others seemed like notes or ideas for fables.

“You certainly get your use out of these ledgers.” She observed, turning to a page with a beautifully drawn flower. “Oh, did you draw this? It’s exquisite.”  
“Thank you.” He blushed.  
“It looks like… a gardenia?” Thanks to her more frequent poking around in the greenhouse, she was learning her flowers.

“Ah yes.” In the habit of their conversations over flowers he couldn’t stop himself from blurting, “Gardenias mean secret love.” He instantly regretted not having his usual filter, pursing his lips as his face reddened.  
“You… don’t have the guidebook.” She narrowed her eyes at him, handing back the journal.

“Ah, well… It is an interesting book. Some of them I remembered from skimming through it.” He stammered.

She didn’t buy it, but diverted her attention to the wyverns in the field. “They all have been really funny lately, bouncing around, yapping at each other. Some of them have been butting heads.” She gasped, pointing over to a paid of wyverns who charged each other, their antlers clacking in a spar. “See there?”

“I guess that makes sitting out here quite entertaining.” Seteth said, bemused at the sight. “Ah, look. It seems like Lightning and Pebbles are getting along.” He nodded over, where Lightning was leaping in a circle around Pebbles, shaking his wings. “It almost looks like a dance.”

“Aw, it’s cute. Lightning is such a cranky boy usually. I guess--” She was cut off as her wyvern began brushing his head against Pebbles’ flanks before… “Oh my goddess. Lightning,  _ no _ !” She gasped.

To their horror, their wyverns began copulating. “Oh, dear. I should get back to the monastery.” Seteth coughed.

“We should stop them!” Byleth pulled at his sleeve.  
“You shouldn’t dare get near wyverns during their mating rituals… it’s far more dangerous than any battle.” Seteth explained, turning back to her. “This… is most unfortunate.”  
Byleth stared at them, “Damn it. This is so embarrassing.”  
“Well at least we’ll have more wyverns in the future.”  
“Seteth!” She hissed.

He shrugged, “It’s mating season. It’s to be expected, despite the inconvenience to ourselves. We should count ourselves lucky that nature doesn’t have such a hold over us. Though this spectacle is bringing back some memories.” He met her gaze, quickly adding, “Unpleasant as they are.”  
Byleth huffed, her face bright red. “Disgusting. Unbelievable. I cannot deal with this!” She threw her hands up, storming away.


	14. Greenhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth runs into Byleth at the Greenhouse. A confrontation ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave it to Claude to unintentionally make an aphrodisiac. Although, he probably had the misfortune of finding the result the hard (pun intended) way.
> 
> Somehow Byleth and Seteth resist everything in their beings to NOT touch each other. It is quite steamy.

Seteth stumbled into Byleth as he arrived for his weekly errand to the greenhouse. She had an armful of monk’s hood and marigolds. Seteth recalled monk’s hood as a classic flower of hatred, but marigolds held two meanings: cruelty or secret affection. His sensibilities inclined him to believe the first meaning though deep down he yearned for the latter.

“Oh, Byleth. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He hid the flower meaning book behind his back.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be doing my laundry?” She hid the flowers behind her back. “I’m just helping Claude with some herbs.”  
Seteth hadn’t even noticed Claude working in the corner over a collection of vials and bowls. “Poisons again?” He sighed.  
“Well sort of.” Claude chuckled. “I’m experimenting.”  
“At least it’s not in the kitchen, I suppose.” He sighed. “Continue with your work.”  
“Well I need to step out to grab a mortar and some of my dried ingredients.” Claude stood up. “Teach, can you watch the burner for me and make sure that it doesn’t get too hot? If it starts to boil then… well… it could explode and that’s bad news for anyone who’s around.”  
“Uh, sure Claude.” Byleth nodded, allowing him to go.

“Explode?” Seteth asked, but Claude had already slipped past him, ignoring the question. He turned back to Byleth, “Where is the greenhouse keeper?”  
“She just left for the day. What have you got there?” She craned her neck to see what he had behind his back.  
“I could ask the same of you.”  
Byleth laughed nervously, revealing the flowers, “Just some pretty flowers the greenhouse keeper picked out for me. I was going to bring them to you at tea tomorrow.”  
He wanted to exclaim that he caught her, that the greenhouse keeper knew those meanings and was helping her send those secret floral messages to him each week when she brought him tea. He didn’t dare reveal that he was there for the same reason, his trusty guide in hand.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Excuse me?”  
“What are you doing here, Seteth?” She asked, pointedly.

“I-I-” He stuttered.

“You leave flowers in my room every week, don’t you?” Her voice soft. “Unless you happen to know a secret  _ admirer  _ that leaves messages about games and insults that I’m fickle.”

“That could be anyone,” Seteth crooned, approaching her. “I wonder, what did the greenhouse keeper tell you about monk’s hood and marigolds? Or did you ask her for whatever insults you could throw at me and she just gave you the flowers?”

“You could always look them up in that book behind your back.” She purred.

His heart sank. She was incredibly close to him, the marigolds brushing against his chest. With a sigh he held the book before him.

“Flowers are always a welcome gift.” He repeated, “But so very useful for sending messages.”  
“Particularly insults.”  
“Or secret affections.” He plucked a marigold from her hand and set it behind her ear.

She opened her mouth to object, until a crack stole her attention to Claude’s concoction. She swore. Seteth suddenly was aware of the faint burning smell before there was a poof of smoke that filled the greenhouse. Coughing, Byleth waved the cloud away, turning off Claude’s burner with a swear.

Seteth wheezed, “Ugh what is that?” It was a sickeningly sweet smell with an undertone of jasmine.

\---

Claude’s gonna kill me, “She groaned. He’s been working on this stuff all morning.” A heavy sweet scent filled the room, with a hint of citrus. Furious, she snapped at Seteth, “This is all your fault! You’re a distraction!”  
“My fault? Maybe you should have paid attention to the thing! Better yet, you could have your students not conduct experiments in the greenhouse or leave them unattended!” His voice rose.

She dropped the flowers, jabbing a finger into his chest, “You should stop blaming me and blowing these little mistakes out of proportion.”  
“Out of proportion? These little mistakes grow into big problems, especially when you’re around!” He snarled.

Claude appeared in the greenhouse doorway with a gasp. “Oh teach you didn’t--”  
“Sorry Claude,” her face flushed. “If Seteth hadn’t--”  
“Teach, maybe you and Seteth should go have some tea. Probably somewhere private. For the next… several hours.” Claude suggested.

“What? What kind of poison is this?” Seteth’s face was red, his forehead glistening with sweat.  
“Well it _was_ going to be a sleeping poison… as soon as I added my ingredients.” He dangled a small pouch in his fingers. “But… from this smell, it might have turned into… ah, nevermind.” He shook his head.

“Honestly, it’s a bit stuffy in here.” Byleth fanned herself. “Let’s take our argument elsewhere. Besides, I think we need to have a little talk about those flowers.”

Seteth walked in step with her, “Your little insults were pathetic.”  
“You’re the one who started leaving flowers in the first place, idiot.” She glared at him. He walked with his chest puffed out, so self-important. She curled her lip. “Finding any excuse to slight me.”

His green eyes flashed as he followed her into her room, a strand of his perfect silky hair falling into his face. She closed the door behind him. He glared down his nose at her like he always did. She was unbearably hot and this high-and-mighty church man was driving her crazy.

“As if I’d spend that much time obsessing over you in such a manner.”

“It certainly seems like it!” Her voice wavered, her thoughts growing heavy as desire roared in her ears. Her wit wasn’t as sharp as it normally was and she was stuck without a comeback.

He was so attractive, and right inside her room. She was so mad at him, she hated him so much. Want dripped between her legs. Her breathing grew heavy as she pulled at her clothes.   
  
\---

“It… it is quite warm.” Seteth’s thoughts grinded to a halt mid-argument. He couldn’t help but stare at a strand of her that fell across her cheek to her lips. It infuriated him as much as she did. His heart pounded in his ears as he began to unbutton his robe. “You make me so angry…”

He couldn’t stop staring at her pulling her coat off, followed by her gauntlets. It was practical, and he followed her lead. Despite being such a hateful creature, she was still sensible. Beautiful, aggravating.

The fabric of his trousers was unusually tight. He wondered why. Oh, of course he was erect. His cock throbbed. He looked up to see her peeling away the last of her smallclothes, her eyes on him, wild. Her face flushed.

“You are naked.” He blurted, unable to form solid thoughts or say anything sensible.

“You’re hard.” She reached out, pressing her palm against his erection. He groaned, feeling himself dribble at the touch. “‘S hot. Not think straight.” He breathed, fumbling to free his cock. It hit the cool air of her bedroom, oozing precum at the sensation. “Mmmm. Nice.” His eyes fluttered shut as he bucked his hips in the air.

“Big. So big…” Byleth breathed, her breath hot against his bare chest. He opened her eyes to see her reach for his cock.

Distant thoughts called to him, echoing through his head…

He stumbled backwards, slamming into the door. “N-no. Snap out of it.” A brief moment of clarity seized him. “Byleth, stay back. We  _ have  _ been poisoned!”

Byleth blinked a few times, shaking her head. She groaned, hunching over and rubbing her temples. She retreated across the room onto her bed.

“It’s an aphrodisiac.” She cursed. “I can’t help but feel…”  
“Just try to stay over there. We can wait this out.” Seteth managed to pull the words out, though they came slow, slurred. He sank to the floor, his legs spread out before him. He looked across at Byleth, who pressed herself against the wall in the opposite corner, on her bed.

“We can… wait this out.” She huffed.  
The room was filled with their heavy breathing as they stared at one another for several minutes. Seteth’s cock ached for touch, dripping hungrily as his eyes roamed Byleth’s body. She sat looking at him, squeezing her legs together, fidgeting her fingers at her sides, her chest heaving and glistening with sweat.

He wanted to taste her more than anything. Resisting the effects of the aphrodisiac was unbearable.

The minutes crawled by like hours.

\---

It felt like an eternity had passed, desire eating away at Byleth’s willpower as she resisted the aphrodisiac. She squirmed on her bed, watching Seteth from across the room. He sat with his back against the door, his legs open to his upright cock, his arms hanging limp at his sides. Beads of precum dripped down his shaft.

Her thoughts were slow and jumbled but she knew she would not give into him. Her lust pooled below her, dampening her sheets.

She would not touch him, but he could still touch herself, right?

Her eyes unmoving from his, Byleth took a deep breath and adjusted her position, leaning back and opening her legs.

A whimper sounded from across the room. Her hand was heavy, but her tingling fingers trailed over her thigh, dipping between her legs. She heard Seteth shakily exhale.

His eyes were so beautiful, so green. She didn’t dare look away from them, but in the corner of her vision she saw him move his hand to stroke his cock, slowly.

Her fingers were cautious, deliberate as they dipped into her soaked pussy, spreading the nectar over her folds. His movements mirrored hers in speed, his breath hitching. She swallowed before dipping a finger into her sex, a loud moan escaping her.

She attempted to stifle her next moan, embarrassed and locked into Seteth’s gaze. His stare was intense as ever, as if demanding she continue. Her motions were fluid, soft.

She dipped another finger in, twitching, biting back another moan. She increased her pace, losing herself in his stare. He fucked his hand in rhythm with her, following her lead. Their motions were consistent, ongoing for a long while before he twitched.

His breathing had grown shaky, his pupils dilated. Silently he stared into her eyes as she touched herself, reciprocating the look. Her muscles tensed as her fingers worked faster, until finally she came with a loud moan.

He mirrored her, his cry turning hoarse as he painted his chest with his seed. Seteth slumped back, catching his breath, finally breaking his stare from her.

She relaxed, rolling away from the puddle in her sheets. Some of her thoughts returned, but they were still slow. Her body still ached.

“Are you…?” She managed to squeak out.

“Still horny.” He groaned, his cock standing at attention.

“Shit.”  
“Stay. No self control.” He grunted.

\---

Minutes passed before they repeated, touching themselves as they stared at one another from across the room. Entranced by each other’s eyes and trapped by the effects of the aphrodisiac, the cycle continued until they had cum four more times, leaving their bodies exhausted as their minds returned to clarity.

The effects finally faded, leaving Seteth covered in his own mess sprawled over the floor, and Byleth lying in her soaked sheets.

“I think,” she panted, “I’m going to request Claude cease his research and experiments with poisons.” Her body was oversensitive.

“Please.” Seteth gasped.


	15. Ginger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth has a crisis of responsibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plot stuff and a tender moment, trying to create build up, and also I'm running out of ideas D: please inspire me!!!!!!!! also I realize rereading I make a SHITTON of typos lmaooooo I hate myself

As spring turned to summer, they took the rest of the Kingdom back from the Empire. Byleth led the combined forces boldly into battle, her strategies proving minimal losses. Back in the war room at Garreg Mach, her recklessness waned (though it never completely left), but her approaches became more level-headed. Seteth approved of this progress, conceding to her leadership as she made more reasonable decisions.

With the end of the war in sight, Seteth and Claude agreed and decided they would march together under a new banner, bearing the crest of flames.

“Why my crest?” Byleth asked upon seeing the banner in the war room.

“You are our leader, and when it comes time for a unified Fodlan, you will have already been at the helm.” Seteth replied.

Claude nodded, “Everyone’s in agreement, teach. You’re the one best suited for the job.”  
She was speechless. “Please excuse me.” She dismissed herself.

\---

Byleth wasn’t sure she could be the ruler they wanted her to be. She felt as if the responsibility was just thrown onto her shoulders. She already had a hard time imagining how Claude, Dimitri and Edelgard would handle ruling their respective territories back in the academy days. There was no way someone like her--a nobody--could rule all of Fodlan.

She hid away in her room, brooding over the fact that once their army defeated the Empire, she would be the one Fodlan would turn to. Something deep inside her wanted to protect Fodlan, perhaps it was the remnants of Sothis’s consciousness… But she never imagined she would end up in that position.

A knock on her door. “Teach?”  
“Go away.” She replied.

“Teach, it’s not like you have to worry about it right away. I know we’re important and all, but we can still pull a few pranks before we have to get serious. We could put some toy snakes in Hilda’s dresser--” Claude was trying to comfort her, reminding her of the mischief they used to commit that their friendship really grew from.

She opened the door. “You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to.”  
“You… well…” Claude was hesitant. “You didn’t figure out things were looking that way?”

“I thought you would lead… or the church would take over or something.” She shrugged. “I really can’t do this, Claude. It’s impossible. I should have never come back here. I’m sorry.” She closed the door in his face.

Frantic, upset, she quickly gathered what things she could, shoving them in a bag. She hurried out, across the monastery to the stables to fetch her steed. Lightning was curled in the stable next to Pebbles, a clutch of large eggs between them.

She threw the saddle over her wyvern’s back, putting on his bridle. She pulled the reins for him to get up and follow her, but he refused to budge. “Come on Lightning…” She growled, “Don’t be so stubborn.” Lightning yanked his head back, grunting. “I want to leave. We have to go. Come on Lightning--” She tugged the reins again.

“He won’t leave his mate.” A voice startled her. She turned to see Seteth in the stable doorway. “Pebbles has just laid her eggs. Don’t take a father from his children.”  
She dropped the reins, sighing.  
“Do you really want to leave again?” Seteth asked, a sadness in his tone.

“I’m not cut out for this sort of thing. When I signed up to protect Fodlan, rulership wasn’t what I had in mind.”  
“You are more than capable.” The words caught her off guard.

\---

She narrowed her eyes, “You’re serious.”  
Seteth continued, “Ruling is no easy task, but we still have lots of work before then. We must find Rhea, defeat Edelgard, and help heal the scars of war.”

“You all are already acting like I am.”  
“Well all those things are part of the job, I suppose.” Seteth said. “But no one expects you to do any of that on your own. You have good people to support you. Friends, allies…” _Me. I’ll support you._ “You will never be alone. We will work together.”

Her hand gripped the strap of her bag until her knuckles were white. Byleth stared at him for a long moment, her eyes burning.

“You… believe in me?”

“Of course I do. So many people do.” She dropped the bag at her side, running to him. She embraced him, tears streaming down her cheeks. She sobbed into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, murmuring, “Do not expect to hear such niceties from me all the time, now.”

“Thank you, Seteth.” She cried. Her tears pained him, pulled at him and tore at his heart. He placed his hands on her shoulders and took a step back to look down at her. She quieted, sniffing. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear.  
“I will do everything I can so that you will never cry again.” He whispered.

\---

His touch was soft. He dried her tears. Something stirred inside Byleth.

This man before her was so kind and tender. There was only honesty and gentleness in his eyes. His beautiful, perfect green eyes.

_ Maybe… _

His smile shone like the sun. His hands were so warm on her shoulders. Words swirled in her head that she couldn’t bring herself to say.

She could say thank you. And she said it again and again, shaking, trembling.

“Why don’t we go have some tea?” He offered. “What is your favorite? I’ll make it for you.”  
She blushed, “Ginger.”


	16. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the war progresses, the unified army of Fodlan, led under a new banner by Byleth make their way to Enbarr. With the push into the Adrestian Empire a grueling task, stress causes friction between Byleth and Seteth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay there's smut in this chapter!  
> I'm starting to wrap up this fic so this one is gonna be pretty good but I'm always open to prompts for future oneshots or short fits if I can't fill them in this one. I'm just writing it as I go so... wheeeeeeeeee
> 
> While I've been pretty sick and bedridden, it is my hope that I will have energy to hopefully illustrate this fic. If I do, i'll probably end up going back and fixing all the typos and some of the other issues since it's pretty stream-of-consciousness But we'll see!

Byleth led the march into the Adrestian Empire. Knowing they could not as easily return to Garreg Mach, they prepared as the most challenging part of the war approached. Initial confidence and momentum waned after the first few battles into Adrestian territory were brutal. The victories almost didn’t feel like victories.

Everyone was on edge. The stress showed itself as irritability between Byleth and Seteth. The tender moment from weeks ago was a mere memory. Their usual bickering returned.

The war room was now a war tent. Byleth hurled a teacup across the tent at Seteth, shattering it against the post behind him.

“We can use the fog as cover to advance!” She shouted. “Stop being so stubborn!”

“Morale could go either way on this.” Claude mulled. “I’m pretty stumped.”  
“It’s too risky!” Seteth yelled. “They know the terrain better than us, your so-called _plan_ is asking for an ambush!”

“The longer we wait here the more likely we are to deal with an ambush!” She countered, slamming her fists on the table, sending her marker pieces flying.

“The troops are tired, we should pace ourselves before we get to Embarr!” Seteth stomped across the tent, now face to face with Byleth. Both of them seething.

Claude cut between them, “Easy now. How about we take a vote from everyone in the room?”

The rest of the generals and officers had been silent, terrified to speak up because of Seteth’s rage and Byleth’s fury.

“Sounds fair.” Seteth eased back.

“Absolutely.” Byleth nodded.

Claude conducted the vote, “All in favor of advancing in the fog?” A few raised their hands. “All in favor of staying and waiting until the fog passes?” By a very slight majority, the second option one. “Very well then, we will move on in the morning, when the fog passes. Now, let’s all get some shut eye.” Claude concluded the meeting.  
Byleth stormed back to her tent without a word. Getting a good night’s rest wasn’t a bad idea, and after arguing with Seteth for most of the evening, she was exhausted.

Vivid dreams came to her.

Something was pulling her hand, leading her forward through a field. Fireflies flickered around her in the tall grass. She looked up to see what was pulling her hand.

Seteth looked back over his shoulder, smiling at her. A warmth filled her chest as she looked him. His smile was so beautiful it seemed to light up the summer night around them. She followed his lead, enamored with him. Everything he did, the fact that he was always there. His laughter floated through the air like a melody. She had never heard a more beautiful sound.

“Seteth,” she was breathless as he pulled her along. They slowed their pace until they were on a cliffside, overlooking an endless lush landscape. The sky grew pale as the sun began to rise over the horizon. He turned to her, taking her hands in his. The words nearly bursting from her, “I lo--”  
She sat up, breathing heavily. The night was quiet around her until a few seconds later the morning horn sounded, pulling the rest of the camp awake. The vision of her dream still lingered. Her cheeks burned. Her eyes widened as her thoughts raced.

“I’m in love with Seteth.” She gasped. Instantly cupping her hand over her mouth, she cursed herself.  _ How is this possible? I hate him… don’t I? He hates me. We fight constantly. Sure we had a few moments but that was all… relative. This isn’t possible. I can’t be-- _

The tent flap opened as Seteth appeared. “Tch, typical. You’re not even dressed yet. And you were the one who was so eager to get moving.” He growled.

She pulled her covers over her to hid her blush. “Get out! No one gave you permission to be in here.”  
“It’s time for the morning report. You’re late.”

_ Just how long was I sitting there? _

“Fine!” She pulled herself out of bed, stretching. When she looked over to see him still standing there, she screeched, “Get out!” She picked up one of her boots and hurled it at him. He dodged it with a sneer before ducking back out of the tent.

\---

“The council already decided that we will operate from here since it is a short march to Embarr. We won’t be moving camp.” Seteth folded his arms over his chest and Byleth entered the war tent. “They left to prepare and rally the troops.”  
“Oh so you’ll gladly wait for everything but me?” She huffed, gliding over to the war room table and drawing her fingers along the edge of the map.

“You set the expectation for yourself, seeing how you’re so prompt about everything. I would assume you would be punctual, especially on the day of our final invasion.” He seethed.

He looked her over, something seemed different about her. She was her usual angry self, but her movements seemed more fluid, deliberate. It was enchanting to watch, almost like each delicate step was seducing him. He had to keep his wits about him. And his wits were telling him that the council was very busy and the war tent was very empty.

“You’re awful chatty this morning.” She hissed, leaning against the table.

“And you’re awfully calm for someone who’s about to lead a massive invasion. This is nerve-wracking. You’re driving me mad with this cocky attitude of yours!” He clenched his fists.

“Cocky?” She raised an eyebrow at him, a glint in her eye.

“Don’t play games with me.” His voice a low growl as he stormed over, slamming his palms on the table on either side of her.

She scoffed, opening her mouth to retort. His patience unraveled and he silenced her with a kiss, pressing against her. She reciprocated, meeting his tongue with hers.

It had been weeks since their emotions flared to such heights, and now they were climbing even higher. Seteth hooked his hands under her thighs, hoisting her up onto the table and pressing himself in between her legs, never breaking their kiss. She ran her hands through his hair, over his shoulders, to the buttons on his robes.

He took the hint and fumbled with her clothes, both of them working to disrobe the other frantically before resigning themselves to finish the job. Byleth sat at the edge of the table, hooking her legs around his hips as he finished disrobing, his cock pressing into her.

He kissed her wildly, his fingers slipping down to ready her, drawing her wetness out and passing it over her folds and up to her clit. He circled his thumb around the bud, causing her to shiver. She moaned as he dipped a finger into her core, kissing his neck.

He worked her up, groaning as he palmed himself, his hips bucking slightly in time with his fingers. Her hands found their way to his cock, stroking him and pulling a groan from his chest.

“Byleth…”  
“Seteth, I want… I want you to fuck me.” She whispered. His hair stood on end. His cock twitched. He dove into her neck, kissing her as his hands slipped down to her ass, grabbing it and pulling her into him. His cock pressed against her entrance. Her fingers angled it and pulled him into her. His hips finished the job, sheathing his length inside of her.

Her warmth was pure bliss. The world vanished around them, and there was only her. His hear sang as he pulled back from her neck, gazing into her eyes. She nodded, ready to take more of him.

He thrusted, a rough, quick pace. Weeks of need spurring his movements. He silenced her growing moans with a kiss, fearing any potential interruption.

He shifted on his feet, and realizing his discomfort he pulled from her. Byleth whined at the loss of contact, only to give him an approving smile as he swept the maps and figures from the war table and leapt atop it, pulling her under him.

His cock found her entrance without assistance and he resumed, quickening his pace as if to make up for the seconds of absence. She hooked her legs around him, and her arms locked together over his neck. Her eyes were dark with want.  
“Seteth, I…” She twitched, and tensed. “I-I-” She stuttered with a sob, throwing her head back as she came. Her pussy milked his release from him and he followed her stuttering with a shaky moan, his fingers digging into her hips as he pushed into her as far as he could.

As they came down from their high, they looked into each other’s eyes. They clarity returned to hers, bringing with it a bright red to her cheeks.

He pulled from her with a grunt, “I’m sorry.” He hopped off the table, gathering his clothes and starting to dress. “I know that was uncalled for.”  
A hand reached out, touching his arm and drawing his attention back to her. “It’s okay.” Byleth said, “It’s probably better that we did this before heading into the next battle.”

He nodded.

They dressed, leaving the war tent to order the march.


	17. Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Seteth face Edelgard. After the battle, they realize their fight isn't over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more plot plot plot
> 
> canon divergence happens here, along with canon-typical violence (not really much gore because I don't really feel like writing all those details)  
> also Rhea was secretly evil and selfish and it's all half-baked bullshit I'm trying to piece together from the vague af canon lore minus some accuracy
> 
> THE FIC ISN'T OVER YET and I'll add more tomorrow! Ideas for smutty smut smut are most welcome and encouraged, please leave a comment. No ideas? Leave a comment anyways! Please I want to hear what you think!

The streets of Enbarr ran red with blood. Byleth begged Edelgard’s forces to surrender, to lay down their weapons, but her pleas went unheard. She did not want to kili, she never did.

But she was the Ashen Demon.

And Edelgard refused to quit, meaning her city fell.

Their banner waved above the city as Byleth turned her eyes to the palace.

Beasts and hordes awaited them as they breached the palace walls, storming inside. They charged, taking down anything that caused resistance in their path, pushing their way through the palace. Dedue appeared among their men as if from nowhere, fighting to avenge his fallen prince. She welcomed him with open arms, ordering her bishops to heal him should he get wounded.

Chaos ripped through the palace as she fought on. Seteth had gone to search through the other chambers, following his original mission to find Rhea. All intelligence pointed to her being imprisoned there.

Drenched in blood, Byleth held up her sword, pointing the blade up to Edelgard. The Emperor stood atop her dais in front of her throne, waiting.

“Edelgard, please. It’s not too late.” Byleth pleaded. “Throw down your weapon.”  
“I cannot professor. Even if everyone else falls, I cannot not stop fighting. I will not stop.”

“Then you leave me no choice.” Byleth growled, charging up the dais. Claude raced behind her, firing his arrows, striking Edelgard down. Wounded, Edelgard persisted, stumbling and raising her axe…

Byleth ran her through, yanking her blace back from Edelgard’s stomach. The Emperor doubled over, falling to her knees.

“I wanted to walk with y--”  
Byleth finished her.

It was over at last.

\---

Seteth found Rhea locked in a tower. She was weak, pale, and thin. Elation filled him upon seeing her, at last his mission had ended.

Byleth was happy over the news, and their troops withdrew to Garreg Mach. Ready to celebrate the war’s end, their revelry was cut short when a letter arrived. With the war at large technically over, the letter detailed that there were darker forces at work. Those Who Slither In The Dark operated in the shadows of the Empire, using Edelgard’s ambition to take control of Fodlan. Those forces were the same ones behind Flayn’s kidnapping, and Arundel’s true affiliation.

Appointing Claude to research how to find Those Who Slither In the Dark, Byleth turned her attention to healing the scars of Fodlan as she readied to take up her mantle as ruler. Seteth devoted much of his time to Rhea’s care, until she was feeling well enough to give them answers.

\---

“Rhea.” Byleth confronted the archbishop as she stood in her audience chamber alone. Seteth joined Byleth’s side, their weapons drawn.

Rhea tensed, sensing the impending questions.

“Have you known about Those Who Slither In the Dak all this time?” Seteth asked.

“I have. They are the descendants of the Agarthans, who slayed our people long ago. I worked to build up the church to protect us from them, but in doing so I allowed them into our midst, and we have paid dearly. They are after our power.”  
“Our?” Byleth asked.  
“Yes, especially you, professor.” Rhea nodded. “For centuries I worked, building up this lie… all in an effort to get my mother back. Along with her bones, your sword, she left behind crest stones, like so many of mine and Seteth’s siblings.”  
“Saint Seiros…” Byleth whispered, pensive.

“For years I tried to find a way to get her back, and when you were born, your mother begged me… I had to pass on my mother’s stone once again.” Byleth and Seteth exchanged a look. “When you returned to us with your hair and eyes like ours… I knew. You had become like us… but even though it was in some senses a success, I still didn’t have my mother…”  
“You… you did terrible things. You lied… You deceived us all.” Seteth whispered, pale. “All for your own selfish whim.”  
“And now we’re stuck picking up the pieces and dealing with the worst of it.” Byleth clenched her fists. “Now we have to deal with Those Who Slither In the Dark. They had all of Fodlan by the throat, imagine where we’d be if the Empire won!”

“I just wanted to see my people thrive again, for us to live peacefully in Fodlan.”  
“You were secretly subjugating them for centuries. Adopting your favored disciples with a blessing of crest stones and blood… You’re no better than Those Who Slither In the Dark!” Byleth snarled.

“And your rule would be so different?” Rhea challenged, her face warping with anger.

“I’m not like you.” Byleth hissed. “I’ll never be like you. Manipulating, lying, using…”  
Seteth spoke, “You betrayed me all these years, deceived me…”  
“You were kept safe, you and Cethleann.” Rhea retorted. She stepped back.  
Seteth shook his head, “Even still…”

“If you wish to be this way, then I will take back the stone, ripping it from your chest.” Rhea roared, transforming in a flash of light into the Immaculate One. She lashed out at Byleth with her tail, knocking her into the wall.

“Byleth!” Seteth shouted. He leapt back, evading another strike from the white dragon. “I may not be able to transform, but I will still take you down!” He said, charging into Rhea. His axe dug into her side. Rhea screamed in pain. Byleth stirred. Rhea’s attention snapped to her, and she charged. Seteth rushed to put himself between them, swinging his axe down into Rhea’s snout.

Claude came running through the doors, followed by the Knights and Golden Deer, armed. “Teach, are you okay?”

Byleth rose to her feet with a nod. Claude led the charge, firing arrows at the beast. Rhea swiped at them, knocking a few of the Knights back, while Byleth and Seteth flanked her.

Bleeding and roaring, the Immaculate one turned to Byleth with one last lunge. Byleth dug her sword in and up into the beast’s throat, holding her ground.

Rhea fell, dead.

The dust settled, silence over the Golden Deer and Knights.

“I’m sorry.” Byleth moved to Seteth’s side.

“The Rhea I knew… Seiros… died long ago. We should remember that Rhea. The Church’s example of Seiros.” He replied.

“It’s over.” Byleth breathed.

“There’s still one more fight left. Then it will be over.” He looked up to meet her gaze. “I promise.”


	18. Virtue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth struggles with her new responsibilities. To cope, she seeks out new ways to have fun and distract herself. Seteth does not approve and tries to keep her in check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hurricane is in full swing, hitting the island where I live. So I don't know if my power will go out or not before I can post anymore chapters.
> 
> Please, take this offering of Seteth denying himself a much needed orgasm.
> 
> There will be more. Seteth's desk looks like it needs some... polishing...
> 
> I can't thank you all enough for your suggestions and contributions. I'm already plotting more fics, short, long... more Setleth, but also I'm a huge multishipper and I kinda want to dabble in some of my other fave pairings/polycules. I've commissioned someone on twitter to draw a Setleth piece since I don't have much time to do art these days, and I hope to share the link here when it is completed :) u can have a little Setleth as a treat

While the letter explained much about Those Who Slither in the Dark and provided a lead, there was still much to do in regards to tracking them down. Since Seteth and Byleth had their answers and Rhea was no more, they could help Claude in his research efforts.

“They will make a move to strike us again.” Seteth murmured as they held council.

“I’m worried if we take too long they may infiltrate us again, like before. If they haven’t already.” Byleth shifted on her feet, uneasy.

Weeks passed since the battle against Rhea, and while Fodlan began to heal, Byleth still bore the scars. Now that she had time to breathe and reflect on those battles, the horror of them set in, making her more anxious as talk of another battle increased. She had faced many battles as a mercenary, but the war itself had taken a toll.  
Everyone seemed physically and mentally exhausted, and even weeks later were still recovering. Byleth, as the new ruler of a unified Fodlan, instated Seteth as head of the Church. Seteth promptly reduced working hours and increased the number of shifts, and everyone in the monastery was put to work to do their part.

Claude suggested opening the doors to Garreg Mach and even expanding accommodations of the monastery, building additions and annexes in the adjacent village. Seteth was hesitant, taking Byleth’s concerns about infiltration to heart.  _ Not yet.  _ Still, he was open to the idea, and began working and researching for plans to build.

To secure his role as Archbishop, Seteth also did much travelling, as he did during the war. Reaffirming the confidence of the faithful and strengthening the church. He steered the structure more towards the teachings of virtue and goodness, and less about the myth of Seiros herself. With the church consistent throughout Fodlan, it was the lifeline for harmony and a resource for those in need.  
Though not yet coronated, Byleth considered much of Edelgard’s views on meritocracy, knowing that in time, she would turn Fodlan toward a similar system. As ruler, she wanted to instill governance and trust to the people, but so soon after the war those ideas were not ready to be shared just yet. She knew it would possibly take centuries, after consulting with Seteth, who watched Fodlan change--and to an extent remain the same in some ways--over the years.

And still, as they pursued their wish from that night at the Goddess Tower, Byleth and Seteth found themselves arguing, albeit over more trivial matters.

\---

“For the last time Byleth, we are not allowing the wyvern pups into the Cathedral.” Seteth snarled as he glared at Byleth, who was holding one of Pebbles’ and Lightning’s babies. Seteth spotted Byleth running across the audience chamber with a baby wyvern, and promptly dragged her into his office.

She pouted, “But they aren’t big enough and they are so cute!” The pup was about three feet long already and she hugged it close to her, it’s legs dangling.  
Seteth rubbed his temples, “The fact that this is even a thing--”  
“They ah… oh! They should be blessed by the Goddess! They need the Goddess’s blessing!” Byleth exclaimed.

“Lightning and Pebbles aren’t blessed.”  
Byleth frowned. “You’re just a killjoy. Why do you hate fun? In your centuries of living have you ever even _had_ any fun? Do you even know how?”

Seteth’s eye twitched, his blood boiling. “Get out of my office, and bring the pup back to the stables.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” Byleth groaned. “Come on Ember, let’s go get your siblings out of choir practice.”  
“You named--wait… You _what_?” Seteth snapped, slamming his fists on his desk. Byleth was already gone.

Something about her anger got to him, and in all of the wrong ways. He groaned as he glanced down at his throbbing erection, hidden under the cover of his desk. His balls ached for attention.  _ I will not. I will not. I will not. _

He willed it away.

He hadn’t cum since before they invaded Embarr. He was frustrated, but he would not give in. Not anymore. He was the Archbishop. A holy man. Virtuous. Chaste.

\---

Byleth needed to destress. It just so happened that every time she thought of something new and fun to relax, Seteth was there to shoot her down. Claude always had the best ideas, and she’d join him for quite a few pranks and exploits around Garreg Mach, until Seteth decided to ruin their antics.

It was no surprise when Seteth called her into his office yet again. “You really should be focusing on your duties as ruler. Maybe you should spend your free time planning your coronation.” Seteth folded his hands over his desk.  
Byleth sat in the chair across from him, brooding. She muttered under her breath, “Saint Killjoy.”  
“What was that?” Seteth cocked an eyebrow, his glare pulling her attention to his eyes.

“Look Seteth, I’m already doing the best I can. I’m not coronated yet, so I’m trying to have a little fun while I can. The search for Those Who Slither In The Dark is exhausting. Aren’t you tired of working?”  
“I manage my time wisely. My breaks are consistent and short.” Seteth straightened his posture. “No thanks to you.”

She had stopped bringing him tea weeks ago, and he was very obviously lying.

“All it is with you is work and travel, work and travel… and when you’re not doing either of those two things you have to breathe down my neck. Get off my back!” Byleth snapped. “I can’t stand being stuck behind a desk all day.”  
“Is your office not to your liking?” He referred to Rhea’s old office, adjacent to the audience chamber. He straightened a stack of papers on his deck. Byleth watched him with hateful eyes. Everything with him was so meticulous and rigid.  
“Tch. It’s an office. I’ve always been a mercenary, what do you think?” She stood up. “I don’t have time for you to scold me like a child.”

“Maybe if you didn’t act like a child I wouldn’t have to!” Seteth shouted, shooting to his feet.

Her eyes flicked down to see a bulge in his pants. He seemed to immediately realize his folly, turning bright red.

“Well, well, well, Seteth. Looks like you  _ do  _ need a break.” She stalked around his desk, closing the distance between them.

“I most certainly do not! This is just a... random inconvenience.” He blurted, hunching over to hide it.

“What’s the matter, Saint Killjoy?” She purred, “Have I got you all worked up?” She brushed her fingers over his bulge.

The sensation was enough to pull a shaky moan from him. “You… you  _ demon _ .” She reached for him again, and he caught her wrist. “Isn’t such behavior unbecoming of someone in your position?” He asked, softly. A fire burned in his eyes.

She inched closer, so he could feel her breath against his lips. “Don’t you need a break?” His grip eased and her hand brushed against him again, pulling another moan from his lips. She silenced him with a kiss.

\---

Blood pounded in his ears as he lost his sensibilities, sweeping his meticulously organized desk clean with one arm and slamming her down on the surface with the other. He rutted against her, moaning again as he trapped her within his arms.

Her face flushed, her expression evolving from surprise to a smug grin. “You’re pathetic.”

“Shut up.” He growled, kissing her as his hands fumbled to pull her shorts off. He yanked down the front of his trousers, pulling his cock free, letting it grind against her wetness. “Fuck you for doing this to me…” His eyes squeezed shut with another moan as he pressed harder against her. He was certain he wouldn’t last a minute inside of her, already getting close just from feeling her.  
“Such language for an Archbishop…” She chided.

The word rang in his ears.  _ Archbishop. Archbishop. Archbishop. _ He snapped back to reality, his thoughts turning from lust to screams against his spontaneous actions. His hands curled into fists as he threw himself off of her, stumbling back against the stained glass window in his office. He bit into the back of his fist, breath heavy.

Byleth sat up on his desk, bewildered.

“You should go.” He panted.

She furrowed her brow, reaching for him.  
“Go.” He said softly. When she didn’t move, he yelled, “Get out!”

Byleth scrambled from his desk, pulling her shorts back on, sprinting out of his office.

_ I will not. I will not. I will not. _


	19. Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth turns bitter. Things go sour not just for her and Seteth, but for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck hurricanes man I was left without power for two days and it sucked
> 
> I am drained and not well
> 
> will keep trying
> 
> enjoy your denial, sinners!!!!

Byleth enjoyed taunting him, but his sudden outburst left her questioning herself. She had wronged him, and truly felt terrible. Guilt-ridden, she resigned herself to her office.

She slumped in her chair.  _ I know he hates me and all, but is this the end? _ She had resisted her wants for weeks, able to satisfy herself. The rejection stung, and her chest ached.  _ I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve his love. Why would I ever? I hate him. I hate that I love him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. _

She stared down at her hands as they curled into fists on her desk. She shook, trying to bite back the tears, but failing.  _ I’m disgusting. I shouldn’t have done that. He hates me. He’s always hated me. It’s not going to change, especially now. _

She buried her head in her hands, sobbing.

“Teach…” Came a soft voice. “Is everything alright?” Byleth sniffed, wiping her eyes to look up at Claude who stood in the doorway.

She gave him a half-smile, “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just a bit stressed.”

“I can come back if you need to let it out some more.”

“No, it’s fine. Is there something you needed?”  
“We found a lead in the Hrym region, I’ve dispatched a scouting party.” He informed her.

“That’s good news.” Yet as she spoke, her shoulders tensed as her mind shifted to Those Who Slither In The Dark. “We are so close.”  
“And about that…” Claude rubbed the back of his neck, “If you have a moment?” She nodded. “Teach, I haven’t been completely honest with you… I know you’re still allowing the current nobility to operate as they once were, including the Alliance, but I don’t exactly plan to return to the Alliance after this is over.”  
“Oh? Will you be staying with us here? I could always use your help and counsel.” She meant it, he had helped her and taught her so much about rulership since they started bearing her banner.

“I intend to return to Almyra, actually.”  
It caught her off guard. She knew he was Almyran, his connections provided them with valuable allies during the war. One of her first agenda items was establishing Claude as an emissary, though he hadn’t had the time yet to travel there.  
“You see, I’m actually the heir to the Almyran throne. I know that to achieve our wish of opening Fodlan to the world, that my work has only just started. I can’t do that work in Fodlan.”  
She was speechless.

“I’m known as Prince Khalid there.”  
“ _You’re_ Khalid?” He nodded with a smirk.

“Well, uh… That’s great! I mean… congratulations? No, um… Good luck?” She stammered, trying to figure out what to say.

“No need to worry, I get the sentiment.” Claude chuckled.  
Byleth took a breath, “Claude. I really can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me, and for Fodlan. You are, and will always be my greatest friend.”  
“I hope our friendship can extend to our people.”  
“That is my wish, and aren’t we now in positions to make our wishes reality?”  
“We are.” Claude beamed.

\---

With something to look forward to, Byleth’s nerves about work and the impending battle were eased. Her guilt over Seteth remained, brewing inside her like a tempest. As she continued to suppress her emotions, they rotted and ate away at her, turning to bitterness. Her love was overshadowed with a loathing more powerful than before.

Her rejection spurred her towards wanting revenge, in the form of unwarranted cruel remarks at council, the cold shoulder in conversation, and harsh glares in between. Her eyes darkened whenever she would pass him in the halls, his attempts to greet her or speak to her going ignored.

She flat out refused any work he sent her way, whether it was minor policy or decrees that needed to be signed off on. Her harmless pride now twisted into selfishness as she outright discarded anything that came from him.

Thus over the following week, progress in Fodlan came to a grinding halt.

“Byleth, you have not been yourself lately,” Leonie said, interrupting their training session together. “You’re really angry, and you’re taking it out on me. It’s wearing me down. What happened to just practicing forms?”

“Yeah Byleth, take it easy.” Catherine nodded, leaning against the weapons rack. She had been observing and critiquing them as they worked.

“I… I’m sorry Leonie, Catherine. I guess I’m just distracted.” She sighed. “It’s nothing against you. Truly.”  
“Look, I know you’re not really one to talk about stuff, but getting whatever it is off your chest might be a good idea.” Leonie suggested.  
“Yeah. Why not try the confessional?” Catherine added.

She balked at the idea, but then considered it. She could always go when she knew for certain Seteth was in his office.

“Not a bad idea.” Byleth nodded. “I’d better call it quits for today.”  
“Good move.” Catherine nodded. “Leonie, you can practice forms with me if you want.”

\---

“There is something wrong.” Seteth furrowed his brow. “Why weren’t the authorizations signed off on? Why is there a stall in reconstruction of the cities in South Faerghus? Why aren’t the tax provisions being enacted?” He began to flip through the reports on his desk, growing more frantic. “No, this is time-sensitive. They can’t wait any longer from the church… this could really backfire on our efforts…”  
He began to write frantic letters to track down answers. Why did everything suddenly grind to a halt? Trusting no one else to follow up on these issues, he set out to remedy these problems himself. Sending his letters by owl ahead, he left on Pebbles, not intending to return as he addressed the numerous concerns around Fodlan.

\---

Byleth strolled down the corridor of Garreg Mach, idle. Seteth seemed to have taken the hint and stopped sending her anything. In fact, she hadn’t seen him for a few days. It came as a relief to her. Upon seeing his office empty, she wondered where he could possibly be.

The thought was soon poisoned by her bitterness, suffocated by a sudden wave of apathy as she drifted down the hall to enjoy a much needed day off. Day off turned into days off. Concern slowly ate away in the back of her head.

“Where’s Seteth?” Shamir asked, interrupting Byleth’s meditative fishing time.

“Dunno.” She shrugged. “Not my problem.”  
“It should be. Nothing’s getting done. I’ve tried hunting him down, but… I don’t know where to start.”  
“He’s probably off scolding someone about something stupid.” Byleth muttered.

“You seem apathetic toward the matter.” Shamir observed. “Is there a reason for this?”  
“I’d rather not have anything to do with him.” She replied. “He and I don’t see eye to eye.”  
“I will ask you again, do you know where Seteth is?” Shamir repeated.

“No!” Byleth snapped. “If you’re so concerned about him, start a search party. If you want the work done, then do it yourself!”

Shamir frowned, leaving her in silence.

By now everyone should know better than to speak his name to her.

Days passed, and the concern and unrest from minor issues around Garreg Mach grew. Byleth did what she could to enact them, but was left without insight, input and experience to guide her to understanding. Rain pelted the window behind her, trying to soothe the headache of the world around her. She slumped at her desk, rubbing her temples.

“You.” A voice hissed.

Her attention snapped up to see a soaked Seteth, muddy and red-faced in the doorway.

“I flew all over Fodlan to clean up your negligence.” He was heaving, his fists clenched at his side. His fury radiated from him.  
She scoffed. “Fuck off.”

He crossed the room in two strides, slamming his hands on her desk across from her, lowering himself to her level. “I went through hell to find out you had just… tossed your work aside, like some bored child!”  
“I don’t need to be bothered with you.”  
“Maybe not, but the people of this monastery and Fodlan do, apparently.” He snarled. “You are not fit to hold your title.”  
Byleth rose to her feet, “I knew that. I told you that. But you threw this upon me regardless.” She eased around her desk, hoping to slip past him to the door.

“Do your job, Byleth.” He warned.

“How about you do it for me, since you were so enthusiastic over the work in the first place?” She cooed.

He prowled around her to bar her exit. “I have no time for this. You will listen to me, one way or another.”

She smirked, “Is that what you want?” She brushed her hand over the front of his pants.

He shuddered. “Is this the only way to get you to see reason?”  
She scoffed, already working his cock free of its prison. He hardened in her hand and she began to work him silently, fondling his balls.

\---

Seteth huffed, struggling under Byleth’s touch. His journey had been so difficult, so exhausting. He needed relief. After being soaked by the rain, her warm touch was welcome over his damp skin.

A moan slipped from his throat as she pumped faster, spitting in her hand to ease the friction. His fingers dug into the sides of his thighs as he whined, twitching as she sped up.

“I’m so close, I’m so close…” He murmured. Seteth convulsed, feeling his body ready. He begged her as his pitch raised with each phrase, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop--”

She stopped. A mocking laugh slid through his haze into his ears.

His eyes flashed with rage for a second before he stopped himself. “I am a holy man.” He exhaled, before shoving himself back in his trousers and brisking to his office.

He locked the door behind him, and hunched over his aching balls in his chair, cursing. She was brutal, cruel. Yet the pain did not come unwarranted, he should remain focused on the work that needed to be done, and not get distracted by such carnal urges. Byleth manipulated that side of him so well, but he wanted nothing to do with it anymore. His sore balls were only a punishment for giving in, especially when he knew they were at odds.

_ I hate her. I hate her. I hate her. _ __   
  


\---

She knew it would not be the end of her problems, and not having to deal with an angry soggy Seteth was a small respite.

Even though she hadn’t dealt with him for some time.

His moans echoed in her mind.

She absolutely would not.

_ I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. _


	20. Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth is plagued by dark magic. The cause is discovered, and Claude tracks down its source, revealing a clue about their search and Garreg Mach's vulnerability. Seteth finds answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also very tired  
> I overexerted myself
> 
> plot heavy chapter
> 
> anyway Seteth has an A C H E  
> and he refuses to sin

“I--Professor...” Lysithea stopped in front of Byleth’s dormitory, paler than usual. “Have you been practicing magic lately?”

“No, why?” Byleth yawned. She had dozed off, sleeping through most of the day after breakfast.

“I sense dark magic around you. It’s a strong presence.” Lysithea reached toward her, but recoiled, as if she were bitten.

“What?”  
“You’re… shrouded in it. It’s painful…”  
“Is it obvious?” Byleth’s concern grew with each word.

“Very few magic users have this ability. I’m worried about you. We should go see Manuela,  _ immediately _ .”   
  


“You’ve been tired a lot lately, hm?” Manuela examined Byleth in the infirmary while Lysithea watched from across the room. Byleth nodded. “Lysithea is right, there’s some dark magic afoot, but I would have never sensed it unless she had said something. I’m glad you came.”

“What do I do?”  
“Rest, now. I’ll try my best to heal you.”  
“I’ll go tell the others.”  
“No--” Byleth stopped her. “If this is what is draining me, it could be an assassination attempt in disguise. We could be infiltrated already by enemies. Please bring Claude here so I can tell him myself. Do not speak a word of this to anyone.”  
“You have my word.” Lysithea nodded, hurrying out the door.

“This is bad,” Manuela laid her hands over Byleth, “It’s like you’ve been poisoned, but with magic… It’s eating away at you and your body can’t recover fast enough.”

“Well at least you’re working on it, right?” Byleth gave an airy chuckle.  
“I’m not making much progress.” Manuela frowned. “If Lysithea hadn’t sensed this, I don’t know how much longer you would have lasted. Even with my healing this is a struggle and I’m not sure if this is going to work.”  
  


\---

Seteth passed the infirmary, then did a double-take into the room. “Why are you here?”  
Byleth had dark circles under her eyes, her color faint. She looked exhausted, and something beyond that didn’t feel right about her. To be completely honest, something with her had felt off about her for a while, but since he spurned her, he assumed it was just more friction between them.  
Manuela looked between them. Byleth gave a nod.  
“She’s being… poisoned by dark magic. I don’t really have a word for it.” Manuela replied. “I have no solutions, I’m stumped.”  
“How did you discover this?”  
“Lysithea sensed it.”  
Seteth’s eyes grew wide. “She is quite skilled in her abilities… but to sense something like this...” He thought for a moment. “I will send Flayn here to help your efforts, Manuela.”  
“Where are you doing, Seteth? What are you going to do?”  
“I’m going to get Lysithea and Claude, and find the cause of this poison.”

“I think Those Who Slither In the Dark are already here. We waited too long…” Byleth croaked out.  
“I think you are correct.” Seteth brisked out of the room.

As discreetly as he could, Seteth led an investigation into the details of Byleth’s life. Who made her morning tea? What were her habits? What had she eaten the past few days? Who did she talk to that seemed out of the blue?  
Lysithea worked to try and feel out for any dark magic in the cracks and crevices of Garreg Mach, sharing her findings--or lack thereof with Seteth. Claude did some sleuthing on his own, following a path of vague clues and a hunch.

Days later, with Byleth under Manuela’s care in the infirmary, Claude made a discovery. “I have a suspect.” Claude yanked a little girl by the scruff of her dress into Seteth’s office, slamming the door behind him.  
Seteth got to his feet, bewildered. He had been meeting with Lysithea and exchanging reports.

“What is the meaning of this? That is a little girl!” He gasped.  
“Yeah? Well remember when a little girl killed Jeralt? Or the fact that Tomas was actually Solon?”  
Lysithea stared at the girl, “He’s right. There’s magic here, it feels like--”

The girl tore herself free from Claude’s grip, and in a whirl she was suddenly a haggard old woman, firing bolts of magic at them. Claude blocked the doorway. Unable to draw his bow in such close quarters, he resorted to dodging her attacks. Lysithea countered her with magic of her own, distracting her enough for Seteth to charge at her and subdue the woman.

“What did you do to our leader?” Seteth demanded.

“I merely planted a seed and helped it grow.” The woman cackled.

Claude pulled an arrow from his quiver, drawing the point against her throat. “Where are your friends?”

“You will never find Shambala!” The woman screeched, convulsing and throwing herself into the arrow’s tip. She choked for a moment before falling limp.

“A seed…” Lysithea pondered for a moment, then rushed to the infirmary.

Claude turned to Seteth, “Know anything about this Shambala?”

Seteth furrowed his brow, “The name sounds familiar. I think it might be…” He trailed off.

\---

Byleth awoke to find Lysithea over her, focused. Pain shot through her for a second before Lysithea and Manuela both laid their hands on her to heal. Blood was everywhere, along with gauzes. Surgical instruments lay on a bloodied tray next to Manuela. A glint caught her eye: a crystal not until the one that Seteth had embedded in his head at Castle Blaiddyd.

Byleth reached for it, feeling the energy pulse from it. She cursed. Her heart felt so light.

“Garreg Mach has been infiltrated. We don’t know if there are more of them, but at least we found the culprit.”  
“Who?”  
“One of _them_. Disguised as a little girl. She brought you tea with that crystal ground up into it. As it accumulated inside you, she used magic to piece it together like that.” Lysithea explained. “It is truly evil, warping your emotions and draining you.”  
Byleth shuddered, remembering just how awful she had been to everyone in the past weeks. “I’m so sorry.”

Lysithea got to her feet, snatching the gem up and throwing it to the ground. She stomped on it, crushing it into dust as she unleashed her fury. Her eyes flashed as she obliterated the dust with a blast of magic.

“Something about it reminded me of…” Lysithea shook as they stared at the smoking charred floor.

“It’s okay. Thank you.”

“What we did--well why don’t you just get some rest and I’ll check on you tomorrow, hm?” Manuela asked.

Byleth nodded, easing down into the pillows.

\---

Seteth led Claude down to the abyss, ignoring the countless questions. He rifled through the shelves, searching for answers in texts he had banished from the monastery. He cursed himself for ripping pages and inking out parts of books, but knew he had left behind the strange word Shambala somewhere.

Claude followed his lead, more meticulous about the books he took from the shelves. “Our last lead took us to Hrym. Maybe we should be more strategic in our scavenging.” He suggested, flipping through anything that hinted at relevance to the region.

“Yes, of course.” Seteth muttered.

“A cave far to the east, rumored to hold a city… Local folk songs sing about the hidden secrets of Shambala.” Claude read aloud. “The custom has since died, but villages would send people into the mountains to search for the city to bring good fortune, knowing they would never return. It became a ritual of sacrifice--” Claude made a face and stopped reading.

Seteth took the book from him and read over the passage. “Then we look for a cave in the eastern mountains of Hrym.”

“I’ll dispatch a scouting party. If that book is true, we should send them in groups.”  
“An excellent idea.” Seteth nodded.

Claude left to organize the search, while Seteth returned back to the upper level of the monastery. It was late, and he caught Lysithea leaving the infirmary with Manuela.  
He couldn’t stop himself from asking, “How is she? What happened?”  
They explained everything to him, horror over the accounts churning his stomach. “You can go in, but be quiet and don’t stay long, she is resting.” Manuela nodded.

_ Perhaps she didn’t mean to be so cruel and negligent. Maybe she doesn’t hate me… _

He crept into the infirmary to find her sleeping soundly. He stood over her, watching her breathe for a moment. He yearned to wake her, to see how she reacted to him. He considered trying to make amends, but realized that was just his bleeding heart consuming him. He had to be practical, nothing would really change between them, would it?

He left quickly, not wanting to linger.

As he retired to his room much later that evening, she stirred in his thoughts, plaguing him. His worry over her had left her imprinted on his thoughts as he lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. The memories followed: her plush ass against his aching cock, the feel of her tight warm pussy around him, her embrace as she sighed over him.

His body answered his mind’s call the only way it knew how. His cock hardened and he absent-mindedly began stroking himself as he drifted, enjoying the sensation. His hand slipped to his tightening balls that were swollen with need, begging him. As he chased pleasure his pace increased, rousing him and snapping him back to reality, where he teetered on the edge of an orgasm.

He hissed, cursing himself and jerking his hand away as if he could throw his limb across the room.

_ No. No. No. No. No. _

Soreness was his punishment for being so careless. He needed to focus and he had no time to indulge himself in those distractions. Not when there was work to be done, not when they were so close to finally destroying Those Who Slither In The Dark.

The ache became a dull throb as he struggled to find sleep the rest of the night.   
  



	21. Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth regrets the past few weeks, despite knowing it was not entirely her fault. She seeks advice from the confessional, and tries the path of atonement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so tired
> 
> I wish I could write more, but... things
> 
> There's desk sex here thanks to popular demand, so thank you for reading and enjoy!  
> I am always open to comments and suggestions! I know that this work is quite sloppy and littered with awful typos so please forgive me RIP NO BETA WE DIE LIKE GLENN

Byleth took her time to recover, locking herself away in her bedroom as memories of the last few weeks resurfaced in her mind. She regretted her actions deeply, beginning to feel some of that deep loathing toward herself.

Seteth wouldn’t be in the confessional so early in the afternoon. Byleth’s footsteps echoed across the cathedral. A beautiful day like this, everyone would be outside. Except for Seteth. He would most certainly be slaving away in his office as usual.

Kneeling in the confessional, she clasped her hands together. Perhaps this would help lift the weight from her chest. “I have done terrible things, your holiness.”  
“What is it child?” Came the voice, fuzzy as always.

“I felt deep hatred. Such deep hatred that I hurt people I cared about. It warped and stained my relationships, it took the burden of my work and thrust it on the shoulders of others. I refused to help those who needed it most, and it was all because of this hateful pride.”  
There was a moment of consideration. “I am truly sorry you let this feeling hurt yourself and others. What brought about your negative feelings?”  
“I did something terrible. I advanced on someone, a lustful act, truly it was unexpected and I feel terrible for acting so forward. He rejected me. I grew bitter over it and that was used against me and everyone else. I’ve been conflicted about a lot of things since the war. However, the extreme effects of my actions were spurred on by the work of dark magic, and our enemies still out there.”  
“Conflicted? Is there something else troubling you?”  
“Someone who I am close to, I can’t make sense of it. I think I’m in love with him, but I am not sure. After everything I did, he would likely never have me. I want to tell him I’m sorry, but I don’t know how. I want to tell him I care so much about him, but I’m terrified after he spurned me.” Her voice shook, she felt as if she was pleading. Her vision bleared from tears.  
There was a long silence.  
“I am certain this person would forgive you if they understood your trials.”  
“Holiness?”  
“Though it is a slow and arduous process, you can always attempt to make amends. Trying to set things right is a good thing in itself. Even if someone does not forgive you, you will know you have tried… Though I am most certain that people would forgive you, understanding your plight.”

“I see. Maybe I should give it a try.” She wiped her eyes, thinking about the possibilities on how she could approach Seteth. “Thank you, holiness.”  
“Go in peace, child.”

\---

Seteth sat back, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He was certain that Byleth had just visited the confessional and… confessed her feelings. His face was red as his mind raced.

_ Praise Sothis for the opportunity to fill in a random afternoon in the confessional. _

His heart pounded, ready to leap out of his chest. Suddenly the anger he felt for her--despite knowing her actions were not quite her own--ebbed. He restrained himself suddenly.  _ No. It matters not. I will forgive, that is all. We both must focus on our work, and nothing more can come of it.  _ The thought pained him. His heart wrenched apart.

Minutes of brooding passed when he realized it was very likely Byleth went straight to seek him out after her confessional. Frantic, he abandoned his post, ordering the choir director to try out the duty in his stead. Seteth ran to his office, turning the corner and knocking into something. A tea tray crashed to the floor, shattering. Byleth fell backward, rubbing her head. The smell of ginger tea wafted through the air. Her clothes were soaked.

Seteth stumbled back, surprised.

“Sorry, I thought I’d bring you some tea, but…” Defeat crossed her countenance. He winced at it.

“I’m so sorry, I was running back from… a meeting… with the stablemaster. I realized I was going to be late in sending out some letters.” He blathered for an excuse, offering his hand to help her up.

She stared at it for a second, then met his eyes. “You… aren’t mad?”

“It is only a teaset. Why don’t you go change into some dry clothes and I’ll clean this up and make some fresh tea.”

\---

There was something gentle in his voice that raised her suspicions.  _ He’s up to something. He wants something. _

She returned to Seteth’s office to find a fresh pot of tea awaiting her. Seteth sat back in his chair, his legs crossed. He poured her tea and then his own, savoring the scent of it. She stared down at the cup and saucer in her hands.

“Have you given any thought about your coronation?” He asked.

Byleth’s head sunk between her shoulders. “Not exactly…”  
“I have managed to catch up on most of the work that fell behind.” He sipped his tea.

“That’s good. I uh… I’m sorry about… well… you know…” She couldn’t meet his gaze, shame scathing her. She apologized to everyone else in the monastery, some easier than others, but to apologize to Seteth seemed like pushing a boulder uphill.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He said softly.

“No, it kinda was. That magic needed a small amount of resentment to grow off of, and it worked.” She sighed.

Seteth inhaled. “I know our relationship is… complicated, but I believe we can move on from this.”

“You’re right.” She said, blushing at her reflection in her teacup. “I suppose I should get to work.”  
“Please. We have much to do before we leave for Shambala.” He set his empty cup down on the tray, and she mirrored him. They sat in silence, Byleth focused on her hands folded in her lap, feeling his gaze burn her.

“I’m sorry.”  
“I said I forgive you. Unless there is something on your mind?”

She shook her head, getting to her feet and picking up the tea tray. She turned to leave with a curt “Thank you.”

Seteth stopped her halfway across the room, “Wait.”

She set the tea tray down on an end table, turning to look at him. His eyes were piercing, he was silhouetted in front of the gilded panes of stained glass behind him.

“Do you hate me, Byleth?” He asked.  
“No more than reason,” She replied. She didn’t know the best answer, but hiding her fear over his rejection with wit seemed like the best option, albeit tactless. His gaze pulled her back across the room. He crossed his arms, unimpressed with her answer.

“That day when I told you to get out--”

“I’d rather forget it.” Her voice shook, she turned back toward the door.  
“It wasn’t your fault.” She stopped in her tracks, turning to him again.

“What?”

“It wasn’t your fault. You were infuriating as always, but the reason I sent you away was not because of your actions.”

Byleth trembled, her eyes burned. She croaked out a tiny, “It wasn’t?” She approached his desk again, as if each step was a plea for an explanation.

Seteth moved from behind his desk to close the distance between them, linking his hands behind his back. “With all the work needed to be done, I told myself as a holy man I should abstain from... carnal desires.”

“I felt so terrible, like I had violated or hurt you.”

He shook his head, “Far from it. I should have communicated better.”

“Tch. You think?”

He glared down his nose at her. “I’m sorry for wounding your precious pride.” His lip curled into a snarl.

“You have work to do, don’t you?”  
“I realize that breaks are necessary, as well.”

“Of course they are. I told you to take them, but you’re too stubborn to listen to reason.” She jabbed a finger into his chest, a fire igniting within her.

“You insist on crediting yourself with this?” He mocked. “Anything for your ego, I suppose.”

“You’re incorrigible.”  
“You’re insufferable!”

With a great swing of his arm he picked her up, his other arm swiping across his desk, sending papers and ink flying to the floor. Seteth threw her on the desk, locking her lips in a kiss. He leapt over her, pressing himself between her legs and laying her across the surface as they kissed deeper, harder. She opened to him, feeling him harden against her.

“Do you hate me?” He asked again.  
“Oh I absolutely _despise_ you,” She moaned as he grinded into her, kissing up his neck. “But I _want_ you.”

“I hate you, I want you.” He reciprocated, his fingers trailing under her shirt and up her navel to squeeze her breast. She moaned, sliding a hand down to brush against the strain in his pants.

His hand slipped down, tucking itself under her smallclothes. Byleth’s velvety folds embraced his finger, welcoming him with her slick. He dipped a finger into her core, spreading her wetness around the outside of her entrance before dipping in again to share with her clit. She squirmed under him, his fingers knowing exactly what she wanted. She pulled at his trousers, whimpering at her lack of focus to unfasten him.

He broke from her, and she whined as his fingers and tongue retreated. She looked up at him, the gilded light from the stained glass illuminating his features from the side.  _ Saint. _ Seteth’s eyes never broke from hers as he rose to his knees and unfastened his trousers, his cock springing free. She reached down, her fingers managing to barely brush against the tip, sending a shudder through him.

His fingers returned to her hips, pulling down her shorts and exposing her pussy. His eyes darkened, his expression ravenous as he climbed over her, prodding at her with his cock. She angled her hips until his cock found its nest, resting against her entrance.

“Seteth…” She breathed, enamored with the sight above her. She reached up, tangling her fingers into his hair and pulling him into another kiss. As he descended, his cock slid into her and he grunted, stilling himself for her to adjust over him.

“It… has been quite a while since I…” He murmured into her ear.

“It’s okay. I just want you. Even if it’s for a second, I’ll be happy.” She smiled.

\---

Of course, it was much more than a second. He pulled out slowly, then sank into her again with a moan. Seteth felt his balls tighten, swollen from weeks without release. Her warmth and touch alone would have made him cum, but by now he had enough practice resisting.  _ Enough waiting. Enough holding back… _

She moaned as he thrust again, deeper this time. Byleth’s arms slid over his shoulders and clutched his back, her nails digging into his flesh.

He  _ adored  _ the feeling. “I want you.” He whispered. He felt her shudder under him as goosebumps rippled over her flesh. Her eyes met his, alluring, begging, needing.

He took a slow and gentle pace. She whined and arched her back under him as he delved into her, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking lightly. Her nails dug into him more, goading him on. His pace quickened, his arms curling under her arch to pull her closer to him, burying his cock deeper still.

She cried out. He stopped and looked at her inquisitively.

Breathless, she managed to say, “Please. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

He continued, kissing up her neck, watching her ecstasy. It was in her every movement, her every moan, and he had it, too. The words caught in his throat, he couldn’t say it.  _ I love you. _

Instead, he groaned, twitching as he neared his climax, “I hate you.”

“I hate you, too.” He thrust harder and harder, until his was fucking her furiously. The sound of flesh against flesh driving him to the edge.

Maybe she knew what he really meant. Maybe she was saying it to him, too. Their own language.

“I’m going to--ah!” She moaned, her orgasm milking his cock as she bucked her hips into him. Her eyes squeezed shut as she rode out her release, and his soon followed. He spent himself inside of her, clutching her tight against him, his fingers digging into her plush hips. His balls ached, tightening, ready to explode.

“Byleth!” He called her name like a hymn, spilling into her weeks of his frustration, his need, his lust. He collapsed over her in utter bliss. A new ache, from the exertion after being unused greeted him, and he welcomed it.

She brushed a hand over his cheek, kissing his forehead as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck with a sigh. He could lay like that forever.

“I thought you had work to do,” She purred.  
“Not as much as you.” He chuckled, kissing her.

“You have quite the mess to clean up.” She nodded toward the papers littering the floor.  
He sighed, pulling free from her. “So do you.” He grinned deviously. He watched as the last string of cum break, severing the tie between his cock and her pussy.

“Ugh, I cannot stand you sometimes!” She huffed, throwing her hands into the air. She pulled up her shorts and hopped off the desk. Seteth slid down, straightening himself. Byleth stormed across the room, picking up the tray and taking her leave.

Seteth slumped into his chair.  _ Does she hate me? Does she love me? No, I shouldn’t get carried away. _

He mulled over their relationship. He yearned for her, wanted to make her happy, support her through ruling Fodlan, working alongside her to heal the land and people from the scars of war. He would be content to do just that, even if she did not care for him.

He smiled, thinking of the future. With her. It was always with her.

And maybe she meant something else entirely under those three little words.

He leaned back, staring up at the ceiling, “I hate you, too.”


	22. Gentle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth wants a change of pace with Seteth. As they warm up to the idea, their feelings begin to thaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOT SPICY TENDER SWEET LOVINS
> 
> This chapter has a lot of sweet romance and soft sex
> 
> So it turns out working too hard this past week caused my sickness to relapse so I've been stuck in bed again. But at least it isn't covid!
> 
> Anywho, I am now open to prompts for other fics, some may be short runs, idk. I'm throwing around ideas rn and looking for inspo. Share your thoughts!

Taking a breath from signing off on official documents, Byleth shook out her hand. The cramps from writing all day were far worse than any battle wound she had encountered, presumably because she did not have a healer immediately present, and writing was far more tedious than battle. She stood up and stretched, figuring it was late enough in the day to have some tea.

The old habit brought her to Seteth’s office without even realizing it. She tensed glancing down at the tray in her hands piled with scones, the pot full of ginger tea. Her cheeks burned as she considered conversation topics, whispering a rehearsal to herself.  
“Would you like some tea, Seteth?” She breathed, imagining him. “You never grow tired of ginger, do you? There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for quite some time, I--”

The office door opened and Seteth nearly bumped into her again as he straightened his sleeves. “Oh, Byleth. I was just wondering where you were since it was getting so late. I was about to come find you.” He stood aside, gesturing to her to enter. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”  
Byleth opted to sit on the couch along the rear wall of his office, setting the tray in her lap. She blushed as he closed the door and joined her side, sliding an arm over the back of the couch while facing her.

“I must admit, a break isn’t so bad, and I find myself more productive afterward.”

“Good to hear.” She focused on pouring them tea, avoiding his gaze. An amicable silence embraced them. He sipped his tea as she held her cup in her hands, again staring down at her reflection.

“Byleth,” he said. Her attention pulled upward until she found him leaning over the tray to plant a sweet kiss on her lips.

She could not hide the blush, and undoubtedly he noticed as he pulled away. “W-what was that for?!”

“You seem distracted,” he chuckled. Leaning back and sipping his tea. His laugh was melodic, a heavenly sound.

She huffed, “You think you can just _kiss_ me?”

“So you’re insisting we copulate first? Seems a bit backwards, but if you insist.” He set his cup on the tea tray in her lap and began to unbutton his robes.  
“No-Hey! What’s the big idea? Do you think we’d jump to--” She pursed her lips to cut herself off.

“Relax,” he laughed. “I was trying to joke with you. You seem rather tense today.”

_Why is he in such a chipper mood?_

She inhaled. “Seteth, I--” A lump caught in her throat. _No. No. No. No. No. Why can’t I say it? Why?_

“Is something bothering you?” Seteth’s brows knitted together in concern. She shook her head, still choking on the words.

“Just stressed.” She muttered, then fabricated an excuse, “About the coronation. I’ve decided I want it to be shortly after Shambala. It will send a strong message.”

He nodded. “A good decision. Are you nervous about it?”  
“Terrified.”

A hand brushed under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his, “You’ll be a fine ruler. Of that I have no doubt.” He leaned in and kissed her again, his lips sweet against hers. “That one was not a joke.”

“What do you mean?”  
“Our tea time is good stress relief, is it not?” She gave a small nod, swallowing the lump in her throat. He continued, “Before we had been so impulsive, but I would like to try something, if you’ll have me.”

Her eyes widened. “You want to do it again.”

He took her hand in his, “This, time, I would like to try it without an argument.”  
She could hardly breathe.

\---

He held her hand tenderly, waiting for a response. He prayed she wouldn’t notice how he trembled asking her, how sweaty his palms were. Her face had been bright red since he kissed her.

He had to at least try. Surely their connection was beyond a physical attraction born of squabbling and insults.

“It doesn’t have to mean a thing.” He assured her. “I just wanted to see.”  
“If we could try it without fighting.” She furrowed her brow, mulling over the idea. She inhaled, her breath shaky as she relented, “This changes nothing.”

Every move of his that followed was slow and deliberate, from taking the tea tray from her lap and setting it aside, to offering his hand. Though they had known one another intimately, he felt like a fresh virgin. She faced him, and his hand brushed up her arm to cup her cheek, guiding her into a soft kiss. Her eyes fluttered closed as she melted into it.

His heart thundered, “Where would be most comfortable for you?” He asked, weaving his fingers with hers.

She glanced over to his desk, which he had cleaned off beforehand. He beamed down at her, glad he anticipated the moment. She was silent, pursing her lips, her cheeks still bright red.

“Byleth,” he whispered. She brought her fingers to his lips, silencing him. She cast her eyes down as she began to undress, and he followed her lead, unbuttoning his robes like an eager young lad.

His clothes were on the ground before her, and his eyes roamed over her as she finished disrobing. She was beautiful, pale and plush. A patch of light green hair crowned her lower lips, her breasts draped and full over her muscled abdomen. A few scars littered her soft skin, which almost glowed in the dim light of his office.

She took a step forward, reaching up and tangling her fingers into his hair. Her lips brushed against his in a question, before he answered her deeply. Her free hand ran over his chest, as if to admire his green chest hair. He was suddenly very self conscious about his body, despite being in excellent shape.

She didn’t seem to harbor any judgement against him as she broke from his kiss and moved her lips to trail down his neck, then his chest. He stopped her from going any lower, his hands on her shoulders.

“Something like that… Not at this time. This time, I want to _know_ you.” He hoped she would understand what he meant. Just them, nothing too exciting, he just wanted to have the simple pleasure of laying with her purely. If he couldn’t say those three little words, then maybe he could tell her in the best way he knew how. His hands brushed from her shoulders down to her hips, kissing her sweetly again. He couldn’t stop kissing her, it was a high he wanted to chase forever.

He was hard without a single touch. She noticed, as it pressed against her. She hooked her arms around his neck and pulled him until her ass hit the edge of the desk. Seteth slid his hands under her thighs and lifted her onto the surface. He kissed her neck, inhaling her scent. She opened her legs and hooked them around his hips, pulling him closer. He felt the humid heat radiating from her core, but a sigh snapped his attention upward.

Her face was flushed in a different manner now, her eyes lidded, watching his every move. He continued to inhale her, palming her breasts before drawing his lips to them. He wanted to taste every inch of her. A tug on his shaft demanded he delay no further.

Still, he took his time, sliding his fingers down to part her folds, finding them wet with want. He leaned back and smiled at her before brushing his nose against hers. She pressed her forehead against his, closing her eyes as her hand pumped his shaft. He did his part to warm her up, his body inching closer and closer.

He removed his hand, the head of his cock brushing against her wet folds. He gazed into her eyes with an inquisitive expression. She answered by taking his head in her hands and pulling him into a deep kiss, brushing her tongue against his lips. As he parted his lips to reciprocate, he eased his cock inside her.

A shaky moan escaped into her mouth, mingling with a sigh of hers. She was so tight, so warm. While much like the feeling before, this time was different. Soft. He wanted to be so tender and good to her, to love every inch of her. Seteth savored her in slow thrusts. There was nothing in the world but them and the bliss they created, and he would remain there forever if he could.

Byleth gushed over him, suddenly pulling him sheathed fully into her as she cried into his chest. Her fingers dug into his back as the small orgasm rippled over him. He hummed, pleased with himself as he continued his steady pace, pressing a kiss atop her head.

“So soon?” He crooned. “Should I stop?” He paused.

“No,” she panted. “Please, keep going. I want to feel all of you, Seteth.”

The sound of his name made his heart flutter. He eased from her and climbed atop his desk, easing her down under him. He couldn’t take his eyes from hers as he dipped again into her molten core. Sprawled under him, face flushed, lips parted in a soft moan, he lost himself in her, coming unravelled.

His thrusts were steady, but he worked his whole being into them, deeper and harder, but never to the point where it was savage or rough. It was him pouring his heart out to her, in silence broken only by their heavy breaths and sighs. He nipped at her neck, propping himself up with one arm while the other slid under her arching back to hold her against him as his hips met hers again and again.

He was quickly coming undone. One hand still clutched his back, the other brushing against his cheek to hold his gaze to hers. It was too much for him to bear, looking at this beautiful divine creature beneath him. He shook, burying his length in her as he cried her name.

Her second release joined his, their liquids filling her and leaking around his cock. This release was utter bliss. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

“I--” He couldn’t say it.

“Seteth,” She panted, brushing his hair from his face. “Incredible.” He nuzzled his nose against hers with a hum and a satisfied smile, looping his arms under her in a tight embrace.

\---

It was a week before they planned to set out for Shambala. Preparations were underway, but Byleth found herself often distracted, distant from her duties. Thoughts of Seteth filled her mind since that day. The day with no arguments.

Something about that afternoon was different. It wasn’t bad, and she had tried so many times during her visit to tell him that she--

 _No. I can’t even think about it. It’s so hard to even say it to myself._ But the thought persisted in her head. _Love._ _Love is dangerous. He wouldn’t really want someone like me, after all, we fight so much. I’m a wreck, and he’s a workaholic. We both have way too much to worry about to think about such frivolous matters._

Her heart ached. On her way to the training grounds she stopped in front of his office. The halls were empty, and she leaned against his door, pressing her palm against the cool wood. He was no doubt working hard at his desk, completely unaware of the yearning mess on the other side of his door.

She sighed.

A memory surfaced in her mind, inspiring her to hurry to the greenhouse.

\---

War council went smoothly, though Byleth was back to her old ways, haughty as ever to Seteth. He took it as an invitation to duel her wits, and while it delayed the meeting, was fruitful in devising a tactical solution for entering Shambala.

After all, it was better that no one knew of their little secret. Except, of course, Claude, who seemed bemused by their banter. Should word get out, there would likely be a great scandal and fuss over it. The archbishop and ruler of Fodlan? It seemed so absurd, and it could be seen as a move for political power. That was the last impression they wanted to make, focusing on civil servitude.

He sensed the heat radiating from her at war council. That afternoon, a knock on his office door interrupted his work. Expecting Byleth, he only found the tea tray on the ground for him, along with a single gardenia attached to a note: _My room tonight._

His heart leapt upon reading the words. Excitement flooded him as his focus from his work pivoted to her and the anticipated evening. Needless to say, the rest of his work was left undone at his desk as he went to prepare for the evening.

He did everything he could, bathing in his finest soaps, carefully grooming himself and making sure his hair was expertly combed, pressing his robes so they were crisp and fresh.

\---

_It was a stupid idea. He’s not going to come. What if he didn’t get the message?_ Byleth panicked, pacing her room. She tidied up her modest quarters and took extra care to bathe and groom herself to perfection, anticipating Seteth’s arrival.

It grew late. Very late. She began to lose hope, her heart aching until there was a soft knock on her door. She leapt across the room, flinging the door open to see Seteth.

She worked to hide her elation, trying to play it cool, “Ah you’re here.” _Perfect. Nonchalant. He’ll like that._

Seteth cocked an eyebrow, then glanced over his shoulder. “I had to wait until there wasn’t anyone around.” He pulled his hand from behind his back, holding out the gardenia to her. “You left me this.”  
“That was for-- nevermind. Come in before anyone sees you.” She whispered, practically yanking him by his sleeve inside. She closed and locked the door. “We should be quiet, others are likely to hear us.”

“Isn’t Sylvain’s room above yours?” He whispered.

“That’s how I know the walls are thin.”

“Oh. Oh dear. I am so sorry. As future ruler of Fodlan, I should find you more suitable quarters.” He sighed, “Why not the Archbishop’s chambers?”  
“Aren’t those yours?”  
He shook his head, “I have quarters elsewhere, with Flayn. The Archbishop’s quarters have been left unoccupied, but they are suited for one with status such as yourself.” He made a small bow. “I will make arrangements tomorrow.”

“Look, this isn’t why I wanted to see you.” She muttered. “I wanted to talk about the other day.” She slinked over to her bed and took a seat, patting the spot next to her for him to join. He prowled over, easing next to her.

“Was it to your liking?” He asked, glancing away. He rested his clenching fists on top of his knees, his shoulders tense as he braced himself for the answer.

“Well, yes.” She admitted. “I was wondering if--”

“Again?” He turned to her. She pursed her lips and nodded.

He leaned over, cupping her cheek to kiss her. She grabbed his arm. “There was… more. I wanted to… thank you. For supporting me.”

“Thank me?” She licked her lips, briefly glancing downward before meeting his gaze again. “O-oh. As long as this appreciation can be mutual.”

“Really?”

“While I may have much to do, my primary job as Archbishop will also be advising you as Fodlan’s ruler. Allow me to reciprocate.” He murmured into her ear.

“Can I undress you?” She blurted.

He nodded. She reached up and unbuttoned his robes as he leaned back on his elbows over the bed, spreading his legs for her. She indulged herself, roaming over him with her eyes and hands as she unfastened his buttons, clasps, and ties. His robes fell from his shoulders to a puddle on the bed, his pants slid down around his thighs as his cock sprang free, eager and dripping precum.

She stared at it marvelling at its size. _How did this thing fit inside of me before?_

Her thoughts were interrupted, “You do not have to do this if you do not want to.”

“No,” She slid down to the floor, positioning herself on her knees between his legs. Byleth wrapped her fingers around his cock, feeling him twitch under her touch. Her other hand brushed against his balls, fondling them as she took his length into her mouth. His eyes squeezed shut as he moaned from the sensation. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking him before bobbing her head. Unholy slurping sounds accompanied his groans as she worked her mouth over him, taking small breaks to lick at his balls.

He rested a hand on her head, “Byleth, you don’t have to--Ah!” She forced herself further down until she choked, his cock breaching her throat. She adored seeing him whimper and beg her, she wanted to unravel him, to thank him, to savor all of him. “Please, I don’t want to cum yet. Please.” He panted.

She obliged, stopping and getting to her feet. He joined her, his hands instantly undressing her as he tasted his precum in a kiss. He moaned at the contact, his hard cock pressing into her now exposed hip. When he finished undressing her, he guided her down to the bed before sinking between her legs.

He looped his arms around her thighs, and with a smirk and unceasing eye contact, brought his mouth to her. His tongue brushed into her folds, starting at her clit with gentle lapping, before gliding down to circle her entrance. The sensation had her squirming as her hands dug into his hair. Seteth tonguefucked her slowly, guided by her moans. For a brief intermission he returned to circle her clit. She pulled his hair and he groaned, one of his hands moving to pump his cock as he worked at her until she stopped him.

“I want to cum with you.”

He wiped his chin with his arm, sliding up next to her. “How would you like to start?” He asked.

She rolled over him, straddling his hips, his length pinned under her wet cunt. She pinned his arms over his head, grinding on his cock as she kissed him.

He whined. She obliged his impatience, positioning herself and sliding onto his length, sheathing him fully inside. She sat for a moment, adjusting to him.

A curious buck of his hips was all she needed to begin to ride him, slow, gentle, soft. Her breasts brushed against his chest as she kissed his neck and nibbled at his pointed ear. He twitched and shuddered at the feeling, unable to hold back a loud groan. She chuckled, leaning back up to watch him beneath her as she steadied herself with palms splayed over his chest.

Seteth’s hands now free went to her hips as he bucked upward, cantering his thrusts with hers. Her moans found a harmony with his, their breathing growing heavier as their pace quickened. He leaned upwards, looping his arms around her back as he sucked her nipples, letting her continue to ride him.

She was in a whirlwind of pleasure, and was desperate to share it with him. Sea and citrus enveloped her senses as she buried her face in his neck again. Byleth eased him down to return to laying on his back, where she increased the pace, riding the edge.

“You’re close.” Seteth rasped.

She was desperate to cum with him, and nipped at his ear again. He tensed under her and swore.

“I’m cumming!” He moaned, shaking. She was too, soaking him beneath her before she collapsed over him. Wrapped in his arms, she didn’t mind dozing off with him still inside of her for a change.

\---

Seteth’s thoughts returned to him some time later, both of them stirring from their post-coitus nap. With her consent, he eased free from her, rolling her over to his side. They lay staring at one another in the low lamplight, quiet bliss.

“I should leave. It would be better than waiting until morning, when there’s a chance of being seen.” He sighed, brushing strands of hair from her face. Those three little words screamed at the back of his mind and balled in his throat.

“I wish you could stay.” She kissed him.

“All the more reason to move your room to the Archbishop’s quarters. Perhaps tomorrow you can move your things?”

She hesitated. “I suppose. I don’t really see a reason not to, but I feel a little weird about it. I guess I’m still not entirely used to this new role.”  
“Can I tell you a secret?” She nodded. He whispered into her ear, “I am still not used to mine. I am just going along with it.” Soft laughs filled the air between them.


	23. Rumors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth moves up to the Archbishop's quarters, which is aptly renamed to the Royal Suite. Having trouble adjusting to this vast new living space, Seteth pays her a housewarming visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this chapter, just awkward feelings and snuggling as these two idiots continue to be stubborn
> 
> I'll try to keep to daily updates until this is finished (which should be soon!)
> 
> I adore Setleth. What are some of your favorite AU's you'd like to see? I also like all sorts of other pairings, it's just that Setleth is my fave o3o

“Morning, teach.” Claude greeted, leaning against the post outside her doorway. “Sleep well?”

“Claude, you’re up early.” Byleth smiled.

“I saw someone skulking around here last night. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”  
“Who?” Byleth cocked an eyebrow.

“Seteth. In fact, I saw him enter your room, and slip out… much, much later. Discussing strategy without me?” He yawned.

The color drained from her face, “We were just talking out some issues.”

“Is that why there’s talk about you moving into the Archbishop’s suite?”

Byleth narrowed her eyes. “How long have you known?”

“Since I spied you two outside the Black Eagles’ classroom one night. Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“Because there’s nothing to tell,” she growled. She clenched her fists, “No one is supposed to know. We hate each other.”

“Hate seems like the wrong word for this.”

“We hate each other. It’s just a way for us to relieve stress.” She stated, looking him dead in the eye.

“I see. Not exactly the most orthodox way to reach solutions, but I guess if it works for you…” He shrugged. “It makes sense. In the war room I could cut the tension between you with a knife.”  
“Ugh. Great.”  
“Hey, it seems like I’m the only one who has figured it out, at least. Everyone else on the other hand…”  
“What about everyone else?” She hissed.

“They’re dying for you two to hook up. Imagine their surprise if they were to find out all along.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry, teach, your secret’s safe with me. Everyone else just has wishful thinking.”

“...Everyone?” She gulped.

“Well, it’s quite the hot topic with how awful you two are to each other. The Greenhouse keeper told me about all the hate flowers.”

She groaned, “Great.”

“Like I said, your secret is safe with me.” Claude smiled. “But I thought we were best friends, why did you hide this?”  
“You’re joking right?” She glanced around, making sure no one was nearby before leaning in to whisper, “I’m ashamed. I’m weak. It’s really _that_ good.”

“Oh my.”  
“I can’t stand him, but I can’t stop thinking about him. Ever since Embarr, I fear I’ve fallen in love with him, and I’m terrified.” She pleaded. “I am sorry for hiding this from you, but it is a weight off my shoulders.”

“Wow. I’m stunned. What’s holding you back?”  
“He probably doesn’t feel the same way, I don’t want things to turn awkward between us because we have work to do, and we can’t do it without each other.” She sighed. “He’s so uptight and professional, I know he’d never truly have me. He’s just needed to blow off steam, being so repressed and all.”

“Oh no, this is bad.” Claude shook his head, dragging a hand through his hair. “We’re heading to Shambala in a few days, you have to focus. Can you hold off until after the battle?”

“I can try.” She was resolute.

“I hope it works out for you, Teach.”

\---

Seteth made preparations and sent staff to move Byleth’s things into the Archbishop’s quarters, which he now dubbed the Royal Suite. While Garreg Mach housed the monastery, the facility and the surrounding village would slowly transform into Fodlan’s capital, and he would see to it that the two worked and housed their officials harmoniously.

The Royal Suite was a marbled room, fitted with a four poster bed and matching elegant furnishings. White linens lined the windows and blowed in the breeze, billowing like gossamer wings in the open air. The bath was expansive, private, columns reaching to the ceiling, tiered steps into a round pool. Fit for any royal.

Byleth shuffled into the doorway, gawking at the luxury of the room. “Ah, you’re here.” Seteth greeted. “I hope you find this to your liking.”  
“Are you sure I can stay here? It seems a bit much.” Byleth muttered, afraid to take a step further.

“Nonsense, this is yours. Come in, make yourself at home.”  
“I’m used to a mercenary life, Seteth. I don’t feel like I deserve something like this. If anyone does, it’s you.”

Seteth blushed, “Ah, well. I have my own quarters and I’d like to stay close to Flayn.”

She grimaced, “I don’t really feel like a ruler.”  
Seteth approached her, placing his hands on her shoulders, “I don’t really feel like the Archbishop. We’ll get through this.” She smiled.

\---

Clouds rolled in that evening, bringing with them a mighty storm. Byleth was uneasy in her new room, and stood awake, watching lightning flicker at her windows. Rain pelted the panes of glass, and she pressed her hand to the cool surface.

The Royal Suite felt very big, and very empty.

The bed was massive compared to her room in the dormitories.  _ If only I had someone to share it with… _

A knock startled her as thunder rolled through the sky. She hurried to the door, finding Seteth there. He held a tray of tea and cookies.

“What are you doing here so late?” She asked.

“With the weather like it is, and you staying in new quarters, I thought you could use a little company.” He moved to set the tray on the center table between the couch and chair in the parlor section of her room. “Unless you’d prefer to be alone?”

“No, thank you for coming. Please, sit.” She nodded. “You could tell me one of your fables.”

She stoked the fireplace and lit a few candles, joining him on the couch. He poured her tea and began to narrate a fable for her. His voice was so soothing, comforting, and warm. His quips and jokes as he commented on the story amused her and helped her relax.

When he was finished, he picked up the tray and turned to leave.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, blurting out, “Will you stay the night?”

Seteth whirled around, the force of which sent some leftover cookies flying to the floor. He set the tray aside, scrambling after the mess, sputtering a response.

“A-are you certain?”

“Unless you have to get back to Flayn…”  
“She doesn’t mind. I think she likes the independence when I have to be away.” He chuckled.

Her breath hitched as she tried to figure out her next step.  _ Do I invite him to sleep in my bed? Do I take my clothes off? Should I kiss him? Should I start an argument? _

“Is something wrong?”

“Er… Just thinking about Shambala.” She replied.

“Perhaps we should get some rest. Would you be comfortable if I disrobed?”  
“Of course--I mean, it’s fine.” She stuttered, cheeks burning. “Do you sleep… nude?”

He smirked, “I can if you want.”

“Oh that won’t be necessary!” She gave a nervous chuckle.

“It won’t?”

“Well I--”

“Byleth,” He stopped her, pulling his robe from his shoulders. “You can be straightforward with me. It is not like we haven’t done this before.”

She nodded, “Do what makes you comfortable.” She cleared her throat. She went to the bathroom to change into a nightgown, wanting to afford him some decency.

Seteth seemed unphased, happy to see her slide into the bed, gesturing for him to join. She couldn’t help but stare as he strutted confidently across the room completely bare. When he slipped under the covers next to her, she quickly rolled away from him, throwing the covers over her.

“Goodnight!” She squeaked.

“Goodnight, Byleth.” He hummed.

She dozed, falling into the depths of sleep when a sudden crack of thunder startled her, sending her into his arms, half asleep. The storm picked up, and a flash of lightning summoned her from her daze to look up into Seteth’s piercing eyes.

“I uh, was surprised.” She muttered under her breath.

“I can see that.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea!” She huffed.

“Of course not.” He nodded, brushing her hair from her face.

She rolled back over, scooting away from him. She wanted to say something or make a move, but after their recent encounter and her admission to Claude, she felt as insecure as a crushing schoolgirl. She agonized not being able to say those three little words. She couldn’t ask him what they were, because even he didn’t know. They never discussed it, and how could she bring it up now, when he lay naked in her bed, next to her?

She listened for him, beyond the sound of the rain and occasional thunder. His breathing slowed, and she was reminded that he was far more strict with his schedule, and probably sleep deprived. The rhythm of his breathing soon lulled her to sleep, the thunder having moved on.

\---

Seteth woke to the pale light of dawn streaming through the window, his body pressed against something warm. His arms wrapped tightly around… Byleth. He recalled falling asleep after she offered him to stay the night, and part of him ached at the fact that they did nothing more. Part of him relished the feel of her skin against his. He watched her steady rise and fall of her breathing, sleeping soundly.

He was usually up around now, readying himself for the day. Something demanded that he return to sleep. He did just that, snuggling into the scent of jasmine.

A knock stirred him hours later. It sounded again, drawing Byleth from her dreams. Seteth wiped his eyes and yawned.  _ Who could that be? _

Then he remembered. He had ordered breakfast to be brought to Byleth yesterday before she moved in, and for maids to attend to her first thing on a daily basis.  _ Shit. _ His heart leapt into his throat as his eyes fixated on the door, sitting up. He glanced around, desperate for an escape.

A third knock and the door opened. His eyes met the maid’s, and her expression turned from cheery greetings to shock and embarrassment.

“Oh dear! Archbishop, I didn’t expect--” She gasped.

Byleth yawned and stretched, sitting up to see the commotion. She rubbed her groggy eyes and regarded the maid before she retreated, slamming the door behind her with a shriek of an apology.

“What the--?” Byleth muttered, then turned to see Seteth sitting up next to her. “Oh shit.”

“She saw us.”

Byleth’s eyes widened as she jumped out of bed. “She  _ saw  _ us? Why was she here in the first place?”

Seteth pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “That was my fault. I ordered daily attendants for you in the mornings.”

“You know how those maids are! The whole damn monastery is going to know about us!” Byleth’s voice rose as she scrambled to get dressed. “Why didn’t you slip out earlier?”

“I was tired! Between preparations for Shambala and planning your coronation, I’ve hardly had time for myself!” He snapped, rising and gathering his clothes. “Perhaps it will just be discarded as the rumor mill.”

She scoffed.

“What?”

“The whole monastery is very in tune to our disputes. It just so happens that rumor mill of yours is desperate to see us… like this!” She huffed.

“Surely you jest.”  
“Maybe you should ask around, but don’t get caught leaving my room!” She growled, storming across the room to the door.

“And how am I supposed to leave?” He snarled.

“Jump out the window for all I care!” She slammed the door closed behind her.

Seteth hung his head, cursing himself.  _ That was not the way I expected that conversation to go. _

He managed to slip out of her room after poking his head out of the door and seeing the empty hallway, creeping down the stairs to his office. Retreating into his work sounded like the best thing to do at the moment, and he would pretend that nothing ever happened.

Of course, that didn’t stop the monastery from buzzing. “Brother, I heard some scandalous news.”

Seteth’s heart sank as he saw Flayn standing in the doorway of his office. “Scandalous?” He feigned ignorance.

“That you and the Professor--er--her highness spent the night together.” Flayn’s cheeks flushed.  
“Oh such things are preposterous.” Seteth waved it off, avoiding her eyes by focusing on the reports in front of him.

“Then why did you not return to our quarters last night?” Flayn asked.

“I had much work to do. I am very stressed about Shambala.”

“You had better not be lying to me!” Flayn pouted. “I like her a lot. It would be nice for you two to stop fighting all the time.”

“I am far too busy to bother with such things, Flayn. As is Byleth.”

“If you say so, brother.” She skipped away with a hum.

Seteth leaned back in his chair and groaned. He hoped Byleth would dismiss this gossip as he did.

\---

Byleth found herself surrounded in the dining hall, eager maids, priestesses, and peers all asking her about the rumor.

“Is it true you and the Archbishop are together?”

“ _ What _ ? No!” She insisted.

“But I heard you two were caught this morning in each other’s arms, in your bed!” Came another giggle.

  
“Ugh, what nonsense. Please, I want to be able to eat my breakfast, not throw it up.” She groaned.

“Is your bickering not a cover for something more?”

“I heard she brings him tea every day, how sweet!”

  
She scoffed, “Please. We _hate_ each other. Why would I ever bother--just leave me alone already! I must focus and prepare myself for the upcoming mission.” Some of the crowd abated, while others lingered nearby annoying her with their whispers.

After a few bites, Byleth gave up, retreating up to her office where she could be left in peace. She wondered if Seteth was dealing with a similar situation. This rumor was humiliating to say the least, and only made her feel worse. She buried her feelings deeper, knowing it was for the best. She couldn’t make a move on him. She wouldn’t. Not with things as they were.

She needed to keep a level head as ruler of Fodlan. Her coronation would be right after they took Shambala. She would have no time for such frivolities. As far as she was concerned, Seteth was a colleague. A really intimate, secretive, awkward, colleague. That she hated… more or less.


	24. Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Seteth deal with the rumors the best way the know how: denying everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah they fuck in this one too
> 
> Seteth is so patient with Byleth's asshattery idk how he does it man
> 
> Gotta write some good fucking before the final battle
> 
> YOUR COMMENTS KEEP ME GOING  
> sorry I only have time to write one chapter a day, I'd prefer to write five, but I'm working a lot soooo....
> 
> this fic is really what is getting me through the days where everything seems to go wrong... stuff is broken, hurricanes, earthquakes, this sickness relapsing... tomorrow is my birthday and a 12 hour shift at work where I'll probably be too sick and exhausted to bother but at least I don't have covid!

To Seteth’s dismay, Byleth did not interrupt his day to bring him tea. He did not realize it until his candlelight burned low. Of course, after the latest talk of Garreg Mach, he knew exactly why. He sighed, lamenting the lack of company. His back was stiff from hunching over his desk all day. He was starving, and ventured down to the dining hall to satiate his rumbling stomach.

Rumors only lasted so long, right? Meanwhile, he had persisted the past several months, intrigued with Byleth. Infatuated even.  _ In love--No! _ Those were dangerous waters to tread. The thought drove him mad. His heart yearned to spill his feelings to her, but there was far too much at stake.

And she would likely refuse for those same reasons, and more.

_ She invited you to stay over last night and you slept with her naked. _ Seteth cringed at his actions. Byleth had distanced herself from him in bed, worn a nightgown… But then in her startled half-asleep daze ended up in his arms, and remained there until morning.

How much longer could they keep this facade up? While Claude seemed somewhat trustworthy with the information, the maids were another story. It was only a matter of time before they would be caught again, proving the rumors right. They could not deny them for long. Distance would be key, but in their positions there was no such thing.

He spotted Byleth from the doorway, dining alone. The hall was mostly empty. She glanced up, meeting his gaze and for a second he froze. He steered his attention to the chef, got whatever leftovers he could, and shuffled by her.

“Wait.” She growled. He froze, a few steps behind her. She did not turn to face him, “Again tonight?”  
“It is too risky. You heard the rumors, haven’t you?” He replied, terse.

“So sneak out early. I’m worried about Shambala.”

“You wish to discuss strategy?”

“Yes.”  
“In your bedroom.”  
“Shutup.”

“I’ll be there in three hours.”

\---

_What was I thinking? This is a stupid idea. I didn’t do anything last night, why would I do anything tonight?_ Byleth paced across her room, anticipating Seteth’s arrival. _I should talk it out with him. I should be up front. I need to get to the point. Just say it. Say it. Say it. Say it._ _  
_ “Seteth, I lo--” The rest came out as a garbled mess as she tried to practice. “I--I can’t do it! I can’t do it. I’m an idiot, a coward, and I can’t ruin whatever it is we have going. It’s just a mutual… stress relief. Help with work… Then why am I so bothered by this?” She looked at herself in her vanity mirror. “Get it together. He doesn’t care about you, he only cares about his work. This is just stress relief. Stress relief.”

A knock sent all of her thoughts flying out the window as she bounded across the room, throwing open her door. Byleth jumped up, seizing his lips in a desperate kiss. She needed to feel him. He stumbled into her room, returning the kiss, kicking the door shut behind him.

He pulled back for a breath, “I thought you wanted to talk about strategy.” He smirked.

“I want…” She trailed off, stepping back. She frowned, “I want to know what  _ this  _ is.” She gestured between them.

“It is whatever you wish it to be.” Seteth chuckled.  
“I don’t--that doesn’t--what?” She crossed her arms. “What do you want it to be? What do _you_ think it is?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged, his face reddening.

She sighed. “I want… I want…” She pursed her lips.

He leaned down and cupped her chin drawing her into a kiss. “We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I don’t want you to worry.”  
“So we can just enjoy the moment?” She asked. He nodded, and she let out a sigh of relief. “What about the maids? What about everyone else?”  
“I will be discrete.”

She smiled, kissing him again and leading him to her bed. They disrobed each other in silence, then fell into the sheets.

He sank between her legs, lapping at her clit. She was already wet and eager for his fingers as they slid inside her. He worked a rhythm, and adjusted himself so he could pump his cock as he delved into her. Her fingers dug into his hair, her legs hovering over his back. Hee toes curled as he sucked at her bud, occasionally flicking his tongue at it as he fingered her.

“I’m gonna--”  
“Not yet.” He broke from her, climbing over her to meet her lips and share her taste. As their tongues danced, he sheathed himself in her, eliciting a cry. “I want to feel you. Let’s clear our heads before Shambala.” He groaned, thrusting hard. She replied in a whine.

\---

He embraced her, pressing his body against hers, relishing the warmth between them as his thrusts became shorter and gentler. He kissed down her neck before licking back up to her lips. His eyes fluttered shut as her scent overwhelmed him, his throbbing cock taking over his actions.

He neared the edge, watching her arch into him driving him closer with each breath. He pulled himself away for a brief second, hooking his arm under her to flip her over and hike up her hips into his aching cock.

“Seteth!” She rasped in surprise. He rutted his cock against her, leaning over to pull her back into a kiss. Byleth arched into it, raising her hips against his length. 

A shaky primal sound rumbled from his throat at the sensation. His fingers dug into her hips as he threw his head back and thrust inside, resuming a quick and steady pace. Seteth watched as she collapsed forward beneath him, her muscled back tensing. She glanced over her shoulder, meeting his gaze, her face flushed and moaning.

The face that sent him over the edge. He threw himself forward as his hips moved in an erratic speed and he came undone. His moan into her ear curled into a bite at the nape of her neck, sinking his teeth into her to help still her as he finished filling her with seed. She was sent over the edge, her hands coiling into the sheets as she screamed muffled into the mattress, drenching him. Her hips bucked into him before they both stilled.

Seteth collapsed to the side, taking her with him. He lay still inside her, spooning her and nuzzling into the welt left on her neck. His stress was gone. She hummed in satisfaction, the noise making his heart swell with pride.

Byleth turned her head up to meet his lips in a small kiss before resting over his arm. They lay in silence, the only sound was their steadying breath as their wind returned to him.

He could have stayed like that forever, perfectly content. He opened his mouth to say the words, but nothing came except a wistful sigh. It would have to suffice. Exhaustion found them, and they dozed for a while.

\---

Byleth stirred, the fire low, her candles nearly extinguished. She snuggled into Seteth’s warmth against her back, the full feeling of him inside her now abated. His breathing was slow, steady on her neck.

She whispered, to herself, confident he was asleep, “Beautiful man. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” Her fingers reached out to weaver through his sleeping hand. “You’re too good for me.” His hand suddenly closed over hers, causing her to jump in surprise.

“Don’t say such things.” He purred into her ear.

“I thought you were asleep.” She gulped.

“I was.”  
She huffed. “You should probably get back to your quarters, you know.”  
He embraced her, pulling her closer to him. She could feel his cock twitch inside her. “I know,” remorse in his tone.

She sensed it, replying, “I don’t want you to leave either.”

“You don’t?”  
“Maybe after Shambala…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. He slowly pulled himself from her with a sigh. She moved aside to allow him his arm back, sitting up and turning to face him. He rolled to his back and propped himself up on his elbows with a grunt.

“I would… I would like that very much.” He gave a small smile. That small smile drew her in, summoning her for a kiss. She leaned over him, brushing his hair back and running a finger along the point of his ear. He shivered at the touch. “Do not tempt me. I do not think either of us would be able to handle it.” He growled with a sly grin.

“Is that a challenge?” She chuckled.

He laughed. “After Shambala,” he assured her.

Watching him dress and leave left her aching.


	25. Depths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time to face down with Those Who Slither In The Dark and destroy Shambala. Will they come out of the final battle unscathed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot chapter time! It's the final battle.
> 
> Some violence, might be a little more dramatic than canon violence.
> 
> Smut is a definite in the next chapter, I'm just too exhausted to keep going, lmao
> 
> I was born during the Perseids meteor shower, which happens every year tonight. If you can't go outside to see it, NASA has a livestream you can watch.
> 
> Anywho, after this fic is done I will try to fill some of these incredible prompts yall have provided me. I hope that I will recover from this sickness soon too so I'll have enough energy to illustrate them.

Claude explained the elaborate tunnels to Shambala upon arrival to Hrym. Based on the information their scouts provided, there were a number of strategies that they could take, and it was evident that no matter what they did, Those Who Slither In The Dark would be prepared.

It boiled down to Seteth and Byleth once again arguing strategy in the war tent, to everyone’s chagrin.

“Separating our forces will cover more ground. Our scouts don’t know the extent of this maze, and it will better our chances of routing them all.” Byleth asserted.

“We should stay together and take Shambala with a single front, avoiding losses as much as possible.” Seteth challenged her.  
“Tch. And bottleneck our troops in the passages?” She scoffed. “Foolish.”

“As if your idea is much better, you reckless harpy!” Seteth’s voice rose.  
Claude cut him off, “I’m gonna have to agree with teach’s strategy. Bottlenecking is a big concern. We don’t know what we’re walking into. We also want to make sure we end this once and for all.”

Seteth didn’t argue with that, instead heaving a sigh and nodding.

“So we will divide our troops. Wyvern riders can go here and--” Byleth began.

“I think we should balance our distribution, or you’ll still deal with some bottlenecking or getting overwhelmed if you run into the wrong enemy.” Claude stopped her. “Byleth, you, Lysithea and Leonie could enter from here.” He directed on the map. “Seteth, you, Marianne, and Catherine can come from here. Both of you can flank while I take the middle section with your battalions while I lead a charge through here. I’ll take the rest of the forces from this area.” He pointed to the map the scouts had drawn out for them.

“Then let’s go.” Seteth agreed. The war room cleared, leaving him behind while Byleth loomed over the map. She looked up to meet his piercing eyes. Desperation shared between their glances, they said nothing, before joining the others.

Byleth hadn’t intended to be separated from Seteth for the final battle. She imagined herself seizing a glorious victory and confessing to him on the battlefield. The way a true mercenary would. In her wild fantasy she would fly through the air, cutting down foes at his side, turning to him in the fury of battle, the adrenaline fueling her courage to finally say it.

_ I love you. _

Claude was sensible, and this was no time to take risks for the sake of love.

\---

Seteth trusted Claude’s judgement, and Byleth’s tactics hadn’t done them wrong before… when they were decided to be not completely reckless by the war council. He worried. Knowing her she would still find a way to have more than a few close calls.

He made his move with Marianne and Catherine, going down the dark passages until the found an expanse under the mountain. A sprawling city of steel and light, ghostly blues beaming across seamless walls, a strange marvel the likes of which he had never seen. Beautiful, and terrible, it was unsettling.

And they were waiting for them. He could hear the distant sounds of the army engaging through the echoing chambers and tunnels, and he took his que, leading the charge to wipe out all in his path. Recalling the bloodshed from centuries ago, he let the rage consume him fully for the first time in an era.

Then strange metal golems rose to meet him. Mechanical giants and threw deadly spears faster than he could see. In the distance he saw Claude approaching the center with his troops. He needed to cut through to lend his support.

They felled the mechanical giant, and as they wove through the complex, they met another, surrounded by soldiers. They were advancing to attempt to flank Claude. Thankfully, they intercepted in time. Seteth swung his spear, desperate to take down the soldiers, but with the golem present, he was soon overwhelmed. Catherine struck out at the golem, leaving the strange apparatus smoking and creaking, close to collapse. Seteth was weary and Catherine pulled back to Marianne’s side as he charged forward.

The golem reared back it’s arm to attack, but from the corner of his eye, Seteth spied a glint of a hand axe and threw up his weapon to block it, deflecting it away.

A cry rang through his ears, “Seteth!” There was a blur before him and a crack. Byleth had spurred Lightning across the corridor to lend her aid, leaping from his saddle to block the spear from the golem.

Seteth’s heart sank as Byleth’s body skidded across the floor, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

\---

Byleth saw enemies closing in on Seteth. The fight was far more desperate than she anticipated. She was weary, sweat trickling down her brow. She urged Lightning on as fast as he could to try and intercept the attack from the golem. Seteth suddenly got distracted by a hand axe, and she knew Lightning was not agile enough to bring her high enough before the blow.

In a last move, she stood up on the saddle and when Lightning was as close as he could get, she leapt, swinging the Sword of the Creator to block the attack. She cried out, realizing her blade was too slow for the spear.

Pain shot through her, the blow so hard and sudden that she didn’t feel herself hit the ground. Her chest ached, her vision blurred. Byleth glanced down to see a spear impaling her, just below her collarbone. Voices cried out, and a blur of green loomed over her as a crash rang through her ears, but the sounds grew so muffled and distant… The world faded around her into black.

\---

Marianne worked to heal Byleth. Seteth stood back, pale, frozen. Catherine shook him, finally defeating the last soldier in the ambush. He snapped back to reality, though he couldn’t hide the tears staining his cheeks.

“Claude needs you. I’ll stay here, go!” She ordered.

Without a word, Seteth was on autopilot, following the charge as the last of Those Who Slither In The Dark were wiped out, and Shambala was destroyed. Seteth flew into a rage, rampaging through the city and destroying everything in his path, taking the lives of anyone who resisted their charge. Claude at his side, they defeated Those Who Slither In The Dark at last.

\---

Byleth ached, while Marianne had done her work to patch her up, there was only so much that magic could do. Wounds no longer bled, but Byleth still limped, caked in blood, back to her quarters in Garreg Mach. With the war finally over, all she wanted was to sink into a bath.  
The rest of the troops were recuperating and assessing what remained of Shambala. Those who returned to Garreg Mach with her were organizing affairs and spreading news, or treating the wounded. After victory, she awoke to see the troops celebrating, but was not well enough to stay, being sent with the first wave to return to base so she could heal quickly to better handle recovery efforts and be ready for the impending coronation.

She wished she could have seen the golem fall. She wished she could have seen Claude’s charge. She wished she could have seen the last enemy crumple at her feet. Most of all, she wished she could have seen Seteth. She did not know if he was okay, but it seemed like the chaos after the battle’s end was almost more of a rushing blur than the battle itself.

Numb physically and emotionally, all she could do was shed her layers, dab the blood away with a wet cloth, before sinking into the hot fragrant bath that begged her attention.

\---

Seteth rushed back to Garreg Mach after receiving word that Byleth went with the wounded back to the monastery to get proper treatment. He was hot on their trail. Desperate to see her, worried, heart in pieces from seeing the devastating blow, he prayed that everything would be alright.

He stumbled through the halls and corridors, up to the cathedral and offices, until finally he charged up to the Royal Suite. He burst through the door, panting, eyes wide as they searched for her.

“Byleth!”

He ran through the chamber and stopped in the doorway to the bath, freezing as soon as he beheld her.

She rose from the water, ringing her hair. Rivulets of water beaded down her skin. She glanced over her shoulder to see him.

“Seteth?” She gasped. She was divine. Seteth couldn’t control his legs as he plunged into the bath after her, despite being fully clothed.

He seized her in a kiss, clutching her tightly. He cried, kissing every inch of her he could until she pulled back from him to look at him.

“I didn’t know where you were, I was so scared, but I couldn’t do anything until they healed me completely…” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“You scared me. You… I don’t--You reckless idiot.” He laughed, burying his face in her neck and resuming his fervent kisses. “You’re still hurt.”  
“Mostly healed. The healers are overwhelmed and this is okay for now.” She grunted, pulling his hand away from one of her soft spots.

“I’ll be gentle.” He whispered into her lips.


	26. Vow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war has ended. There is work to do. Seteth manages to confess to Byleth, but will she confess to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry I have not been doing so hot, I'm just gonna be like this for a while it seems...
> 
> there's smut, and then drawing to a warm conclusion
> 
> so uh...  
> I gotta get writing on those other prompts!
> 
> I'm sorry for all the typos and everything, I'm very sloppy ;0;

Seteth basked under Byleth’s affectionate gaze as she helped him remove his clothes, setting them next to the bath to dry. Her touch was gentle. He shivered as her fingers traced along his skin. He wrapped his arms around her and sank into the bath, entangling himself in her.

His lips refused to break from her skin. She tilted her head back in a sigh and from her mouth he moved to her neck, then down to her breasts. His hands roamed her body in gentle caresses, treasuring every inch of her, as if to say he would never leave her again. He was so soft, careful with her wounds. Byleth still had moments where she winced, drawing back slightly, but urging him to continue.

He was more surprised with how gentle she was with him. Byleth took the time to bathe him, washing him gently as he enjoyed her. He loved every second of it, his heart ready to burst from his chest. Her actions evidence of his feeling reciprocated.

“Byleth…” His words caught in his throat as she met his gaze while she washed his chest. Instead, he pulled her to him, sitting back against the wall of the bath. She straddled his lap, steadying herself on his shoulders.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment until Byleth leaned over him and brushed her lips against his in a question. He answered, his fingers pulling her hips gently against his torso. Seteth hummed with a soft smile. She took her time, her movements slow as she struggled against the pain before she finally lowered herself onto his throbbing cock with a gasp. He embraced her, burying himself in the crook of her neck as she adjusted.

Byleth pushed him back gently so she could begin riding him, slow. At times, she grit her teeth, willing herself through the pain. He reached up to cup her face, meeting her gaze with a pleading look in his eyes. He did not want her to hurt, not now. Not ever again. She eased up with a sigh, capturing him in a kiss once more. Seteth thrust into her slowly, settling his hands on her hips to still her.

She lowered herself again to a midpoint where he could pace himself better. She tangled her hands into his green mane as she continued to kiss him, answering his thrusts with soft moans. Byleth was warm, wet, perfect. Seteth was enamored, each thrust deep, slow, savoring her, her pleasure, her everything. The warm bath stirred around them in an aquatic melody accompanying the rhapsody of sighs.

Seteth gained his pace as Byleth’s grip in his hair tightened. She arched her back, throwing back her head in a moan as he took a nipple in his mouth with a gentle suck. His hands slid from her hips up her back, feeling her move into his thrusts. There was no sign of pain from her, only ecstasy.

She trembled, body going taut over him as she neared her orgasm. He worked himself up to the edge, desperately tasting every inch of her as he rode wave after wave of passion. Her muscles tensed as she leaned down, pulling him up into a final deep kiss.

A muffled moan of his name fell against his tongue as she found release, rippling over him. He came with her, the explosion of pleasure rocking him to the bone with a low cry. She fell against him, resting her head on his collarbone as she panted. He caught his breath, stroking her hair with one hand and holding her close against him with the other. He planted a kiss on her hair.

“Seteth,” Her hot breath exhaled against his skin. “I-- Thank you.”

He smiled, humming in contentment.

\---

In the days that followed, Byleth’s wounds were healed. The work to restore Fodlan after finally defeating Those Who Slither In The Dark had only just begun, and she found herself busier than ever before. After their sweet reunion in the bath, their duties took them away from one another, and they found themselves too surrounded to steal away.

Since that day, she kept the ring her father gave her in her pocket, hoping for an opportunity to speak with him and confess. Yet as her work ate away any hopes she had for having him alone, she persisted, hopeful. With more time, she readied the words, her fears shrinking away.

Her coronation was attended by all of her allies and friends. She dressed in white and gold, elaborate stitching and patterned fabric surrounding her in an immaculate mandorla. The cathedral was packed, singing her praise as she passed her comrades, stopping to thank them all before continuing to the dais where Seteth awaited, in his gilded Archbishop robes. He shone like the sun, beaming at her. He held a golden coronet, simple, almost like the thin band he wore.

She stopped before him, meeting his gaze. When he held the crown over her, she trembled. His reassuring gaze guiding her past her fears of rulership. This wasn’t about her, it never was. It was for Fodlan. Everything she did was for the deep love of Fodlan that had always been with her.

Alongside it blossomed a new deep love, ringing through her with Seteth’s voice, “Do you vow to protect and guide Fodlan into an era of peace?”

“I do so vow.” She replied, bowing her head to the figure that represented not only the Church, but all of Fodlan’s people.

He placed the crown on her head, “Rise, ruler of Fodlan, Byleth Eisner, the Ashen Demon, daughter of Jeralt the Blade Breaker, bearer of the Crest of Flames, slayer of tyrants, protector of the realm.”

She inhaled and turned to her people. Seteth stepped down from the dais to her side, bowing. Her chest swelled with pride as the room bowed.

She immediately spoke, “Rise, and bear witness to a new era of peace.”

Cheers erupted, and the world swirled around her into a vibrant ball of dancing, music, and drinks. Smiles and laughter, stories and heartfelt memories.

“Well, Teach--or should I say your majesty?” Claude swaggered up, patting her shoulder. “I’ll be off tomorrow to Almyra.”

“Claude, there’s no need for formalities anymore. Just call me Byleth.” She embraced her friend.

He grunted in surprise, only to hug her back. “You’ll be departing with the finest gifts of Fodlan, as an offering of friendship to  _ Prince Khalid _ .”

Claude chuckled, “I’ll make sure he gets the message. I hope you will visit soon. When you have things here sorted out.”  
“Of course.” She grinned. “We will open Fodlan to the world together. For a brighter future.”  
“For a brighter future.”

They danced, joked and laughed before Claude went to join his Almyran friends across the ballroom.

Seteth strolled up to her, blushing and clearing his throat before offering his hand for a dance. “Would you?”  
She nodded, taking the offer.

Unlike her fast-paced flamboyant and rowdy dance with Claude, the dance with Seteth was slow and intimate. Byleth soon forgot about the burning stares of those around them as she lost herself in his smile. With each turn they moved closer and closer, until their lips were inches apart.

The music stopped and the world returned to them. They parted as they noticed the gawking and slack-jawed shock of the crowd.

The ring felt heavy in her pocket.  _ Perhaps now isn’t the time… _

\---

Byleth returned to the grind of her work after bidding Claude farewell the following day. When the days passed, she ached to see Seteth again. Desperate to plan for a way to see him, she began devising how she could say the words.

Seeing an opening to take a moment to herself, Byleth slipped away for a quiet pause to the Goddess tower.

Seteth’s voice broke the silence, “You must be exhausted. It seems like our work has only increased since the war's end, doesn't it?”

“I could use some rest.” She nodded. She anticipated asking him, but talking shop wasn’t the most romantic subject...

“I am afraid that will not do, Your Majesty. We are in the process of forging a new age. All of Fodlan, noble and commoner alike, is watching your every move. You cannot abandon your post now. The people would feel betrayed. Rhea imparted this role to you, and you are the only one who can fulfill it and accomplish all that must be done. Do you think anyone will permit you to shrink from this noble duty?”

She stiffened, tempted to squabble. “Harsh words.”

“I am sworn to help you as best I can. That sometimes requires brutal honesty. Believe me, I am just as overburdened as you. But I will not abandon this. Where you go, I follow.” Seteth bowed, his tone softening.

“Promise?”

“Yes. For whatever centuries may yet be ours, I will always remain by your side. That is why… I hope that you will accept this.” Seteth fumbled for a moment before presenting her with a ring, shining with a brilliant green emerald, much like his imploring eyes. “I will just come out with it. I love you, deeply. Will you marry me?”  
She was speechless, her cheeks reddening.

Seteth continued, his face flushed, “Since I have already tied my fate to yours, I could not help but imagine how lovely it would be to exchange wedding vows with you. But there is one thing I want to make sure you understand beyond any doubt… I am not proposing to you out of a sense of duty, nor a desire to perpetuate our bloodline. I want this because I am in love with you. I cannot conceive of a world without you in it. If you feel the same… Will you do me the honor of joining your life with mine?” The lump in her throat made her opt for an eager nod. Seteth was elated. “You will?”

She nodded again, smiling from ear to ear.

He brushed a hand into her hair, “Then allow me to renew my pledge. From this day forward, I will always be at your side. Through good or ill fortune. Through the greatest of joys and the worst of woes. No matter how daunting the task, I will be there.”

“I’m so glad.” She chuckled, pressing a sweet kiss into his lips. He reciprocated, twining his fingers with hers.

He broke away with a sigh, “However, we must always remember our duty to the people. Even if it is at the expense of our happiness. We should wait to announce our marriage until Fodlan’s stability is restored. And, with the thought of that day in mind, we must now return to our work.”

Her face fell, “Do we really have to?”  
“There are people waiting outside your office. Courage, my love! Let us go forth and face the world…together.”

She nodded, clasping his hand and following him a few steps. The weight of the ring in her pocket forcing her to dig her heels in and stop in her tracks. She pulled him back to her. He stumbled, breaking the skip in his step. He gave her a questioning look.

“Courage…” She breathed. Finally, she could say it, knowing that he loved her. “I love you, Seteth.”

He seized her in a kiss, muttering, “I suppose a little delay is of no great consequence.”

She pulled the ring from her pocket, taking his hand. She slid it onto his finger before clasping his hand against her chest, holding it tightly. With his other arm, he embraced her.

“For whatever centuries may yet be ours,” She repeated his earlier words, breathless.

“I will always support you. I love you, Byleth.” He smiled, kissing her.

\---

It is said that there was no greater love in all of Fodlan. As the sands of time flowed, Byleth and Seteth disappeared, but every so often a pair of lovers appeared to inspire those around them in Fodlan’s most dire hours, restoring the balance and peace across the land as they had many times before.


End file.
